A Reflection of the Light
by Harp in the Willows
Summary: She scrubbed the windows, replaced the linens, and brushed away the cobwebs in the dark corners of the manor where the peculiar little creatures liked to hide. It was, after all, her job. But there was nothing in the job description that prepared her for the Demon King recovering in the guest suite. Contains LuciferxOC.
1. Unexpected Guests

**Hello! Glad to have you along for the read!**

 **This is a side story I'm working on to help develop my writing skills and to give my mind a little break every once in a while from the emotional weight that comes with working on my main fic. I've had the idea floating around in my head for a couple of years now, so I'm excited to get started!**

 **If you're familiar with any of my other works, you'll know that I am a slow writer, so you can expect updates to be infrequent.**

 **I do not own** _ **Ao no Exorcist**_ **.**

 **Please read, review, and enjoy! : )**

* * *

A cheap umbrella bobbing up and down above her head with every step, Mineko splashed through the vacant streets, thankful that few people ventured out at such an ungodly hour. The early commute spared her from pitying glances. Not that she would have been the only person wearing a soaked outfit, had someone joined her under the weeping sky, but silent condolences did little for wet clothes, and the majority of the work force had no reason to leave the house at five-thirty in the morning.

Squinting past the unyielding rain, she could make out the train stop ahead, the lamppost beside it glowing red to signal an arrival. "Oh, thank goodness," she gasped, panting from her run as she came to a stop behind the yellow safety line.

Seventeen seconds later the train rumbled to a stop in front of her, the hiss of the opening doors drowned out by the pounding water. Closing her umbrella, she hopped in, scanned her pass, and took a seat on the edge of a worn cushion, setting the umbrella on the floor beside her. The dark grey pants she wore clung to her knees and thighs, the fabric around her calves and ankles only saved by the waterproof boots fitted snuggly over them. The worn red sleeves covering her arms were also damp, and with any luck would be dry by the time she needed to step out in the rain again.

A garbled announcement was broadcast over the speakers, and the doors simultaneously slid shut.

Removing her backpack, Mineko scooted further onto her seat and relaxed her muscles until the back of her head pressed against the cool surface of the window. It was a fifteen minute train ride from the station, followed by a twenty minute trip by taxi to the front gate. Not enough time for a proper nap, but enough time to close her eyes. 

* * *

"Well, this is a sight." Mineko opened her eyes and leaned forward, peering around the headrest in front of her. Through raindrops and windshield wiper swipes, she saw a line of vehicles parked on the road leading up to the gate. "I didn't know Mr. Sakata hosted get-togethers, or parties…whatever all this is."

"He doesn't host events at his estate," she stated matter-of-factly. "Parking isn't allowed along this stretch either." Unfastening her seatbelt, she grabbed her umbrella and slid her arms through her backpack straps. "I'm going to get out here."

"I can drive closer—"

"No. It's okay. Thank you." She reached into her pocket for payment and looked out the front window again. "Sorry, Umeda-san. I think you're going to have to turn around and go back the way you came. They're practically in the middle of the road." The money was dropped into his palm. "You can keep the change. Thank you." She offered a small smile without looking at the driver, who thanked her in turn and wished her well.

Steeling herself with a breath, she opened the cab door and stretched her arms, opening the umbrella to shelter her as she exited the dry interior of the car. From her back pocket she withdrew her phone, and a few seconds later the surrounding area was bathed in torchlight, diamond drops glinting around her.

Taking a step back, she shut the door and retreated as the taxi pulled away, a small wave splashing over her toes. A curious frown wrinkling her brow, she made her way towards the front gate.

There were twelve cars in total, stationed at various distances from one another in no obvious pattern but clearly intended to prevent any vehicles from passing. She glanced into a few of the cars on her way; all were empty, and there was nothing to indicate whom they belonged to. Skirting around a black SUV blocking the gravel path, she darted past the twin stone pillars bearing the Sakata family crest, catching the flicker of lanterns ahead.

The trees on either side of the path leaned in, leaving her room to travel only forwards or backwords. As beautiful as they were to behold in spring or under a summer sun, their spindly branches hooked like talons in the early dark, brown leaves rattling in the wind and rain.

The farther she made her way onto the property, the more enthusiasm she lost in her stride. Her eyes flickered between groups and individuals in dark suits spread out on the lawn and near the manor's front doors, their silhouettes blurring in the downpour like watercolour paint. With her torch lighting her way, she imagined almost every pair of eyes was upon her.

She slowed her pace further, not only to avoid slipping in the puddles forming on the well-tread path, but to buy her a little more time to assess the situation. Those uniformed men and women she would inevitably cross on her way to the front doors watched her approach; the others dismissed her and returned to their conversations or watch. Their indifference swept away some of the tension from her body, but did not dissuade her from glancing in their direction with the same wariness that she regarded those monitoring her. When she was close enough to distinguish the animal motifs on the lanterns hanging over the porch, she stored her phone in her pocket.

A man with a black umbrella was approaching. He looked like any of the others—straight-laced, authoritative, a little imposing, physically—with his only discerning feature being his shaved head.

"Good morning," Mineko spoke before he reached her.

"Good morning," he returned, the words quiet and quick, shuffled aside for a more important discussion. She stopped in front of him, knowing he had set himself in place to block her way. "This area is not open to visitors at this time, Miss."

"I w-work here," she interrupted him before he could tell her to leave. He didn't look like the type to make requests. "I'm employed by the Sakata family. They are expecting me." Without looking away from her the man raised his arm, signalling a co-worker who detached herself from a small group standing under the protection of the porch.

A woman a few years older than her descended the steps, popping open an umbrella. Her pale skin and light hair proved a startling contrast to her dark suit, and when her umbrella bloomed over her shoulder, she appeared as an angel haloed in black. She did not speak as she came up beside her associate, angling her umbrella so that the rainwater would not run onto his shoulder.

"What is your position?"

Mineko looked away from the woman. "I clean. Every week. The bedrooms, b-bathrooms, halls…s-s-sometimes the kitchen." After a small pause, she asked, "What's going on?"

"May I see some identification?"

Her shoulders stiffened but she reached into her pocket. "Are you with the police?" Her fingers brushed the edge of her train pass.

"We're security, Miss."

 _But not the police._ She pulled out her card and reluctantly handed it over.

Without so much as a cursory glance, the man passed it to the woman, who nodded at him and abruptly turned around and headed for the front doors without a word, wet shoes squeaking up the steps and across the wooden porch. With a sinking feeling, Mineko realized that any mess made inside the house would be her responsibility to clean.

"How long have you worked here?"

"A little over two years." She was growing increasingly uncomfortable giving away information about herself while learning nothing in return. "I need to speak with Maria-san," she said, peering around the man to watch the blonde woman shut the door behind her.

 _Please remove your shoes_ , she silently begged.

"She lives here. She's the uh, the, the caretaker."

The rain came down harder. Her pants would be a sopping mess if they ever allowed her inside.

 _Why can't we have this conversation under the porch?_ The man nodded but said nothing, and she shifted from one leg to the other. _These people weren't here last week, and Maria-san said nothing about receiving guests. Did she not know? And Sakata-san never needed this much security before._ She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her cell phone again, the wrinkles of her frown deepening from the light on the screen. _She didn't call or text me…_ When she lifted her head to check for the blonde woman, she noticed the man looking at her screen, and she shoved the phone back into her pocket.

"No one told me about this," she said as if it wasn't already obvious, looking at everyone but the man in front of her. How long had the woman been gone? She did her best to cross her arms and block out the growing chill. No one else seemed to mind the unfavourable weather; if they did, they had the self-discipline to remain professional in their discomfort.

After what felt like an unnecessarily long wait, one of the front doors swung in. Across the threshold the young woman beckoned, uttering not a word. Mineko glanced at the man to see if he would stop her, but he let her pass and did not follow, and so she trudged up the steps, bringing the mud and rain with her over the porch and into the front hall.

"Maria-san." The name came out as a sigh of relief at the sight of the greying woman standing on the step. A cough that could just as easily have been a sigh drew her attention to the pale-faced woman, who was holding out her train pass at arm's length. Unsure if she should thank her, she took the piece of plastic with the faintest of nods.

Delicately, as if any noise above a whisper would bring the wrath of heaven and hell upon her, the blonde slinked back outside, staring at the two women as she slowly closed the door.

"What is going on, Maria-san? Who are they?" She was sure to keep her voice low, in case one of the black suits happened to be standing around the corner.

"We will speak… Put your umbrella in the bin, you're making more work for yourself." The older woman waved at the umbrella at her side, which Mineko hastily discarded, and then took a step back to make room for her to sit and remove her boots.

"So many people," Mineko mumbled as she counted the rows of shoes beside her.

"I insisted they leave the entry way uncluttered. This house was not built for so many guests, and we do not have room for everyone's belongings."

Setting her green boots aside from the more expensive, ill-suited for outdoors shoes, she turned to find a pair of slippers dangling at face-level. "No socks?" Maria usually allowed her to move about and do her work wearing only her socks, save for the summer, when it was too hot, and she roamed the halls barefoot.

"No socks." She peeled them off and stuffed them in her boots.

"Leave your phone with your bag; they've asked that we refrain from using them indoors."

Mineko paused in adjusting her slipper and looked at the woman over her shoulder, more than a dozen questions running through her head. "Should I…not be here? I can go home…"

"Nonsense! You are here to work, and there is work to be done. I can't complete all the chores on my own—not with so many people fussing about—and I wouldn't trust any of them to treat this estate with the respect it deserves." Maria scowled good-naturedly at the grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Wait until you're my age and your in-laws come to visit on a whim. You'll understand."

Comfortable in her slippers, Mineko stood and followed her supervisor from the entryway, aged floorboards creaking under their weight. Despite the number of shoes in the hall, they passed no one on the way to the kitchen. It was warm, and quiet, and if she were to sit herself in a chair in the tea room, she was certain that she would be asleep within fifteen minutes.

"I was expecting a commotion," she admitted quietly, not wanting to break the calm but hoping her words would prompt Maria to speak. And she did speak, briefly, too low for her to catch a word, so that she gave up on conversing until they reached the kitchen.

Maria pushed aside the sliding door for them to pass through, light distorting across the adjacent wall in golden spots as it filtered through the stained glass.

Shuffling by Maria, Mineko went to the far end of the cooking space and opened the narrow closet, setting her backpack in the corner under a couple of hanging smocks and aprons. She reached for her phone but hesitated.

 _In case of emergency._ She left it in her back pocket.

"Turn it off if you're going to keep it with you," Maria called from the opposite side of the kitchen, giving her a disapproving look.

"It's that bad? Having my cell phone with me?" She watched the screen go black and returned it to her pocket.

"For security," the woman said as she opened an upper cabinet and pulled out a small stack of folded cloths. She set the faded fabric on the counter and gave the pile a small pat. "Amongst our guests are a few high-ranking officials. The Sakata family is less renowned than it used to be, but their ties—both financial and social—run deep. Sakata-san would like to see that they continue to do so."

Mineko began rolling up her sleeves. "I suppose if it were for his friends… But it's awfully sudden. And he hasn't done this sort of thing before, that I can remember. At least, not since I started here."

"That's not something we can control," Maria sighed, and for a moment, the fire left her. It was unsettling, similar to the look she had seen on her grandmother's face after she woke up in the hospital. The realization that things were not—and would never again be—the way that they had been.

"Maria-san…?" She stopped fiddling with her sleeve.

The moment passed.

"You let me know if these folks give you any trouble. You're doing your job, same as them, and as an employee of their _host_ , you should be treated with the same courtesy and respect as you treat them." She paused. "Do I need to worry about how you'll treat them?"

Mineko bit her bottom lip in a show of nervousness and the other woman glowered. The tension was broken when a short laugh escaped her lips, and Maria smiled. "I didn't think so." 

* * *

"We'll work together today so that they recognize you in the future. I don't know how many personnel come and go or when their shifts begin and end, but I've seen many of the same faces this morning that I saw yesterday."

Mineko sounded her agreement as she wiped the glass on the inside of the kitchen doors. "They arrived yesterday? All of them?"

"I suppose so. Too much going on for me to keep track of every person," Maria complained from the other side of the doors.

"Do…?" She bent over to place her cloth in the bucket, wrinkling her nose at the smell of vinegar that rose from the liquid inside. "Do you need me to come in to help an extra day? I can be here five days a week, or six…"

"What about your volunteer work? I don't think they would appreciate me stealing you away. And Sakata-san pays you, not me. You would need his approval."

"I'll still have time to volunteer." A silence fell between them as Mineko picked up a dry towel to wipe her hands on before passing it to the caretaker.

The three days a week she had off she spent volunteering at an animal rehabilitation center, performing work similar to that which she did at the Sakata estate. It didn't get her any closer to a career in a museum, or any further on the path to becoming a historian, but she liked the routine, and she liked that it kept her busy. At present, she was content to immerse herself in the history she found in the books amidst the shadows and leather of the small library at the opposite end of the house.

"How long will they stay?"

"Hm?" Maria picked up four dry rags on the ground at her feet.

"Do you know how long the guests will be staying here?" If they were gone by the end of the week, there would be no need to offer more of her time to helping out at the estate.

The older woman's face took on a few more wrinkles. "As long as they like."

Mineko matched her expression as she picked up the bucket of vinegar water. It was not the answer she expected—or wanted—to hear. It was surprising enough that a group of elites was allowed—offered?—room in the manor; but to cater to them indefinitely? The entire arrangement seemed strange, and the more she thought about it, the more she began to wonder if something was _wrong_.

"Come along, girl, we have the rest of the house to scrub." The shorter woman was already on her way down the hall, slippers pattering on wood at a busy pace.

Mineko shut the double doors and hurried after her, rolling her feet to keep the bucket's contents from splashing about at her side. She was too old to be called "girl," but she recognized the woman's attempt to draw her attention away from the subject matter. Deciding to play along, she called after her, loud enough for her ears alone. "If you can call me "girl," may I call you "grandma?""

Maria's head whipped around, cheeks flushed from the warmth of the house and the exertion. "Who taught you to give sass to an adult? And to your mentor, of all people?" She turned around, shaking her head. "Shameful," she scolded in a tone that suggested she appreciated the comment.

They passed the washroom, dining room, tea room, and a room that, as far as Mineko could tell, existed only to display the family's private art collection, before reaching the heart of the house. There, beside the staircase that led to the second floor, Maria came to an abrupt halt, clicking her tongue in annoyance.

"We're going to need another bucket of vinegar water if we clean windows together. That master bedroom is big and I don't think either one of us wants to walk back and forth, just to soak our rags. Go grab another bucket; there should be a smaller one outside the kitchen, under the porch. It might be on one of the benches…"

Nodding, Mineko carefully placed the bucket of wet rags beside the wall and returned to the kitchen.

"Bucket, bucket," she mumbled to herself as she unlocked the sliding door beside the small storage closet, grunting with the effort it took to wrestle the door aside. Since Sakata did not entertain guests aside from family, the back porch was rarely used. The furniture was cleaned semi-regularly and the light fixtures replaced as needed, but much of the wood appeared rather dark and discoloured in daylight, and she could never quite bring herself to rest on the benches when weeding the yard in summertime. For all she knew, the seats were rotting.

She got the door opened halfway before it squeaked and moved no more. It would have to do.

A curtain of rain fell over the roof of the porch, flooding the plant pots hanging from the closest pillar.

"Bucket… Bucket..." She crouched to look under the benches and tables, humming when she caught side of the medium-sized green bucket flipped on its lip. Wrapping her hand around the plastic grip, she dragged it out from beneath the table where it had fallen.

"Oh!" She gasped as she began to lift the pail, finding something hiding underneath it. Caught off guard, she released the handle and took a step back towards the door, thinking she had uncovered a rat.

The bucket clattered and rolled away until it tapped the leg of a bench. As she watched, a small, round, black body wobbled out gracefully, followed by a second, even smaller one that hovered just above the floorboards before being buffered upwards by the gentlest of breezes.

"You little black soots. You startled me!" Leaf-green eyes stared blankly at her as she shooed the larger one away with an open palm. It slowly drifted up, joining its tiny companion in a meandering dance.

Feeling a smile forming on her face, she ducked her head, keeping it to herself as she snatched the pail and checked that there were no stragglers.

When she stood, secretive grin no longer in place, she swept the yard with a discreet glance, and, seeing no one, walked back inside. 

* * *

Despite the presence of the house guests, the morning routine remained the same. They cleaned, scrubbed, wiped, washed, and dusted, finishing every task in half the time it normally took as a result of their combined efforts. However, by noon, they had yet to service the guest suites on the ground floor: two spacious sets of rooms in the corner of the manor, separated from the bustle of downstairs activity by a longer stretch of hallway. It was there, Mineko assumed, that their guests were hiding away.

"I'm going to check on them. See if anyone needs anything," said Maria, drying off her eating utensils before storing them away in a drawer by the sink.

"Let me know if you need help," Mineko offered from her spot at the table in the corner. "I'll be in the library after I finish this," she raised the bag of apple slices sitting in front of her.

"We'll see." The older woman left the kitchen, softly closing the door and leaving Mineko alone with her thoughts.

The rain had yet to let up, its steady rush filling the house with white noise as it tapped on windows and drummed against the roof and walls. Chewing on her apple and wearing a distant expression, she let the sound carry her into a daydream. She couldn't be sure how long it carried on, only realizing her mind had slipped away when someone hit the doors to the kitchen.

Blinking and startled by the interruption, she stayed in her chair a few seconds. Whoever it was did not knock again. Mildly curious, if not a little on guard, she decided to investigate, standing and moving stealthily across the room with the aid of her padded shoes. She was almost to the door when it opened from the other side.

"Get some water." Maria's purple sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, one hand wrapped in a small blue glove, the other holding on to the doorknob.

"H-how much?" she stuttered when she saw that the woman was going to tell her to hurry up.

"A pitcher. And a glass. You cleaned that small bucket we were using earlier?" A frantic nod. "Bring that too."

"To the guests…?" Maria brushed past her, moving towards a set of cupboards. Mineko scurried across the kitchen to the back door, throwing her full weight against it as though her life depended on it. The green pail was right where she left it, and with a wide swing of her arm, she snatched it up from the table. This time, there were no black soots beneath it.

She took the empty drinking glass from Maria once she had filled the bucket, then followed her out of the kitchen. It was an uncomfortable journey down the hall, in which she tried not to bump the bucket with her legs while maintaining a brisk pace. Her feet felt sweaty in her slippers, and she was certain that she was leaving fingerprints on the polished glass cradled against her chest.

When she rounded the corner to the guest hall, her eyes left the tight, silver and brown bun atop Maria's head and flew to the unfamiliar faces on either side of her. With a small skip that she hoped was less noticeable than she imagined, she moved herself closer to the caretaker, dropping her gaze after making brief, unwanted eye contact with almost every person she passed. Most of them were men, young and middle-aged, wearing the same black suits as the security members surrounding the manor, except for a couple who looked like businessmen and a handful—including one woman—fashioned in boots and blue uniform tops resembling military dress.

No one pulled her away from Maria or questioned her presence, but by the time she found herself shoulder-to-shoulder with her supervisor in front of the first guest suite's door, she was determined to leave the area as soon as possible.

The right door opened upon the third knock, as though someone had been anxiously awaiting their arrival. "Come in," invited the man standing on the other side, speaking softly. He reminded Mineko of a butler. Or, rather, what she envisioned a butler to be. His tone was polite, and his posture reserved, but the instant his eyes landed on her, she could see the questions in his eyes.

Maria passed him the pitcher of water, diverting his attention for a moment as she turned towards her to speak in an equally quiet voice. "There's a basket of sheets just inside, to your left. Please wash them." She took the bucket and glass from her and stepped into the room, the unnamed butler giving her space to pass him without fully opening the door.

"Excuse me." Mineko made an effort to tilt her head down, admiring the tile floor as she tiptoed into the room, keeping her back pressed to the adjacent door. Only one window was uncovered by curtains, allowing in a bleak grey light that washed over the room to capture it like Polaroid photograph. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Maria approaching the bedside.

She stubbed her toe on the basket of linens. Bending over, she hastily picked up the basket and pressed it against her stomach, squeezing out of the room. Without a backwards glance, she marched towards the bend in the hall, looking straight ahead and keeping impassive under the silent scrutiny and the sensory assault to her nostrils. It wasn't until she was in the wash room that she wrinkled her nose, furrowed her brow, and bit the inside of her cheek.

 _What is this?_ She grabbed two handfuls of the sheet on top of the pile, separating it and holding it up to the light to look for stains on the white fabric.

Nothing.

She threw it in the washing machine and reached for the second sheet, her hand sinking into the wrinkled material and feeling something damp. She flinched and drew back, then reached for another spot. Confirming her new hold was dry, she lifted the mattress cover high, exposing the brown and yellow stains around the middle.

 _Bleach it._ The soiled cover joined its cleaner partner.

She found dried blood on one pillowcase, and fresh stains on the second.

Throwing the rest in the wash, she rinsed and scrubbed her hands in the sink as the cleaning cycle started up.

Without bothering to dry her hands, she crossed over to the window and threw it open, trying to rid her nostrils of the stench. The smell of the deluge gradually filled the small washroom, carrying with it a blessed chill that cooled her skin and seeped into her lungs like a breath of fresh air.

It was almost enough to calm the heart beating wildly in her chest. 


	2. Late in the Day

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 **I do not own** _ **Ao no Exorcist**_ **.**

 **Please read, review, and enjoy! : )**

* * *

When the laundry was finished, Mineko folded the heavily bleached fabrics and replaced them in the basket. Alone, and without instruction, she padded down the hall with the load in her arms, carrying it to the opposite end of the manor. Shadows stretched and grew in those areas of the residence that went unoccupied, swallowing decoration and furniture in silence. The days were growing shorter. Soon, the rain would turn into snow, covering the roof and the trees until everything glared white in daylight and glowed blue under moonlight. With snow on her mind, she returned to the guest hall.

Only the black suits remained, lining the walls on either side of her like dark picket fences, upright and immovable. A couple near the end of the hall conversed quietly, ignoring her while being ignored by their co-workers. She set the laundry basket beside the first guest suite and walked away, not bothering to knock on the door. Without a doubt the same doorman would have answered, and she wasn't interested in what the man did and did not say.

A few hours remained in her day, but with the strange guests making themselves comfortable in the Sakata abode and Maria's absence, she found herself questioning her priorities. She had always been an assistant to the caretaker, working for the good of the estate. Now that the rooms were not so empty, would she be expected to take on the responsibilities of a maid or servant as well? She had never attended to people before—at least, not to strangers or individuals of status—aside from the widowed Sakata, who requested a cup of tea or other small favor once every blue moon. It was not the sort of service that played to her strengths or inspired more than submissive silence.

Her footsteps slowed and finally came to a halt in front of the private library, the closed door promising solitude and tranquillity on the other side.

Maria would find her here.

Grasping the door handle, she gave it a gentle turn, feeling the resistance of old age grind against the palm of her hand. She did not expect anyone to be inside, but nevertheless, she opened the door slowly, poking her head in to survey the room before entering with the stealth of a feline.

For a second she was bathed in the afternoon grey bleeding in from the single window opposite her, and then she flicked her wrist and the library was awash in a soft, incandescent glow. For the benefit of the books and manuscripts, the light was always kept low, the paintings and sketches on the walls framed and covered in a layer of glass to protect them from the post-noon sunlight that shone in on fairer days. The room itself was not large, but the bookcases stretched from the floor to the ceiling, providing as much shelving as possible given the spatial constraints. All-in-all, it was a cramped reading space; or, as Mineko preferred to think of it: snug.

Passing the dark shelves accumulating dust, she pulled the curtains over the window. There was nothing worth looking at outside, and she didn't fancy the idea of black suits strolling by and peeking in at her whenever they felt so inclined. Satisfied with the positioning of the curtains and confident that her solitude would not be disturbed for some time, she crouched between a pair of bookcases and wriggled a wide-covered, skinny book out from the trappings of the shelf.

As with the majority of texts in the library, it was an educational read: an interpretation and analysis of the imagery found on 17th century Chinese porcelain. The content of the book itself was something that she had no prior knowledge of or keen interest in, but the subject matter of some of the large illustrations—which contributed to the dimensions of the pages—piqued her interest enough to sit down and flip from one piece of pottery to the next.

Settling into one of two cracked leather armchairs sharing a tea table, she propped the book in her lap and began to read, the toes of her slippers swishing just above the floor.

Minutes ticked by, but the passage of time did not concern Mineko until a shudder rattled down her spine. The vents in the wall were always kept shut, assuring that the room stayed cooler than the rest of the manor, but the shiver caught her by surprise. She could not recall when the temperature had become uncomfortable. Upon looking down, she found herself in another similar predicament. The pages spread open over her lap looked familiar, but the memory of their lesson was elusive.

 _Did I fall asleep?_ Worry raised her from the armchair and nearly acquainted the book with the floor. The small hands on the timepiece propped on the tea table pointed towards her feet. Her shift ended soon. _I've never fallen asleep before. Maybe I was just daydreaming? Maria-san…_ She snapped the book shut between her hands and scurried to replace it on the shelf, thinking about the caretaker.

 _I would have expected her to come and get me. No. No, that's wrong. I shouldn't have fallen asleep; I should have asked if she needed more help. I have to apologize. Maybe I should stay a little longer?_ Switching off the lights, she hurried out of the room, unintentionally slamming the door behind her. The warmth of the hall was refreshing, sweeping across her cheeks and making her hands tingle pleasantly.

She returned to the kitchen but found no one, and after checking the washroom and other rooms where Maria spent more time in the afternoon, she realized that the older woman was likely in the place she had avoided searching.

The guest hall was quieter, and not just from a decrease in the number of black suits standing in it. It was as if the west side of the manor had retired early for the evening. The matching light fixtures on either side the first suite were off, and if any light was on within the room, it was too weak to pass through the panes of the door. Two of the men in the hall looked her way when she turned the corner, and she slowed her pace despite herself.

Before she reached the first door, she stopped and addressed the man standing closest to it. "Excuse me?" Dark eyes met hers. "I'm looking for Maria-san—the caretaker. Do you know i-i-i-if she is still in the suite?" A grimace flashed across her face at the long stutter.

"She's inside." It occurred to Mineko that had she bothered to truly look at the black suits in the hall earlier in the afternoon rather than avert her gaze or send furtive glances their way, she would know whether or not she needed to describe Maria to him. "Do you need to speak with her?" His tone was polite, but she suspected he was really asking if what she had to say to the woman was important.

"I do. Yes." Her hands were fists at her sides, but she did not break eye contact with him. "Can I—would you—be able to get her? Please?"

The man adjusted the glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose and told her to wait a moment. He didn't ask for her name.

A few seconds later his knock on the door was answered by the butler-like doorman from earlier. They exchanged words briefly in soft voices, two pairs of eyes darted her way, and then the door shut in the spectacled man's face. He resumed his position against the wall and gave her a single nod.

After a short period of standing in the middle of the hall, wondering where she could rest her gaze and not be awkward about it, the door to the guest suite opened and Maria stepped out, gloveless. A bit of surprise carried over into the weary wrinkles of her face, but Mineko spoke up before her.

"I'm so sorry, Maria-san. I was in the library—" Maria put a hand on her shoulder and ushered her to the end of the hall where their conversation would stay private. "I lost track of the time…"

The older woman waved away her excuse. "Don't worry about anything else for today, I can handle the rest. Things are running differently now; it will take some getting used to." It sounded like their guests were going to be staying for a while.

"Are you sure? Do you want me to come in an extra day to help? Sakata-san isn't here right now, but when he comes back…"

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Maria's mouth. "I'll call you if I need help. Thank—"

"Maria-san." The call came from the guest suite. Maria's mouth hung open, her sentence interrupted halfway through, and both women turned to the man sticking his head out of the room. Once again, Mineko had the feeling that the man did not like her, his thick mustache standing out on his face, even in the shadows, appearing to droop at the ends into a frown that no doubt paralleled his lips. "Can you bring us some food? Broth or soup works best. Lukewarm."

"I'll get you some, Nakamura-san." The door closed and Maria let out a short sigh.

"Thank you, Mineko-chan."

They walked to the kitchen together, Mineko keeping a couple of paces behind Maria. Pushing through the double doors, she watched the woman pull a bowl out of the cupboard and set it on the counter before making her way to the pantry. Guilt gnawed at her insides and wrinkled her brow.

"Let me know if you need my help tomorrow morning. I don't mind coming in early." Maria set a carton of broth next to the stove and shot her an exasperated look, making her blush and mutter an apology.

Hoisting her backpack over her shoulder, she bid Maria a good night and padded out of the kitchen. Replacing her slippers for socks and boots, she retrieved her umbrella, pulled out her cell phone, and stepped out into the damp chill of late afternoon. There were a few people standing under their own umbrellas who turned her way as she reached the top of the steps, but only one observed her as she turned on her phone and dialled for a taxi. When her transportation to the station was sorted, she put her phone away and descended the flight, her feet sinking about an inch into the dark, muddy water at the bottom.

Ahead, past the black suits and through the knotting trees, a single pair of headlights drew closer. Waiting at the foot of the steps, it was not until the car was slowing in front of the porch that she recognized it, and moved. Around her, the black suits held stock still, readying themselves for whatever they believed would happen as the car came to a stop, wheels sloshing in the muck.

Almost immediately the back passenger door opened, and a folded newspaper was thrust into the air as a make-shift umbrella. A moment later, a pair of polished shoes splashed into a cloudy puddle beneath them, and the widowed Sakata straightened out of the car, the broad, tan shoulders of his suit browning.

"Good evening, Sakata-san." Mineko raised her voice to be heard and darted past the motionless black suits, holding out her umbrella to offer some small shelter from the elements.

The businessman slammed the door shut and ducked under her cover, his socks and the hems of his pants completely soaked judging by the look on his face. "Thank you, Matsumoto-san." She ushered him towards the porch, rain seeping into her clothes in her attempt to keep the tall gentleman dry.

"Good evening." Sakata nodded at the black suits as if he already knew them, while they nodded back in recognition.

"Sakata-san." Her employer turned to the man who followed them, but did not stop until they were under the porch. "The Captain wishes to speak with you. About accommodations, among other matters."

"Very well." Sakata paused before adding, "I'll make some tea. Then we'll speak." The messenger seemed about to object to the order of things, but the businessman drew himself up and gave him a look bordering on disdain. Several steps below, the man appeared to back down, and the anger left Sakata's expression, a sigh softening his stance. "I have not eaten since lunch. I think the Captain can afford me time for a drink, at least."

"I will let her know," the black suit informed him, his tone dubious. Evidently he knew the Captain well enough to predict her response. As it turned out, Mineko knew Sakata well enough to interpret his earlier statement to mean that he would ask Maria to prepare his tea. Mineko closed her umbrella.

"I will go and put the kettle on, Sakata-san. Maria-san is attending to the guests."

"I had assumed you were on your way out," her employer began, sending her a frown as he moved aside for the other man to pass between them on the steps.

"I w-w-was, but the tea will not take long. I have to w-w-wait for my ride too."

"If you insist." His shoulders gave a small shrug that indicated he had no concerns with her reasoning. He started up the stairs to the front doors, following in the footsteps of the messenger when she called for his attention again.

"Where would you like me to bring your tea, Sakata-san?" Her umbrella snapped shut with a sprinkle of rainwater.

"The tearoom will do." Mineko nodded and waited for him to enter the front hall before ascending the remaining steps, not wanting to crowd the space as footwear was exchanged.

Fifteen minutes later she was rapping on the door to the tea room, balancing a tray of cups and tea in her left hand. No one answered, and after a similar response to a vocal introduction, she decided to open the door. The window was shuttered as it had been since late in the morning, the room black and empty.

 _I'm sure he said the tea room. Maybe he's on his way now?_

A minute crept by in the hall, then two minutes, and after the third, she closed the door and left in search of her missing employer.

Food and drink were never brought upstairs, and so she passed the staircase without a glance, moving on to the rest of the manor and listening for sounds of life.

She padded only a few steps down the guest hall before calling to the black suits in a thin voice.

"Sakata-san is inside." It was the man with glasses who had spoken to the unfriendly Nakamura on her behalf.

She ventured further down the hall, wishing that she had been selfish enough to let Maria prepare the tea. "Thi-is is for Sakata-san." She held up the tray. "Can you ask him i-if he still wants me to bring it to the tea room?"

 _Or can I hand it to you and be done with it?_

"Please? I'm sorry i-if-f I'm troubling you." She bit the inside of her lower lip and stopped a few paces from him, looking at the guest room door.

 _Get a hold of yourself! Maria-san said… They might be important guests, but you're the host. You_ do _have some authority._

"The Captain is in there with Sakata-san. She wanted to speak with him, so now might not be the best time to interrupt."

Mineko stared at him for a moment, her mouth dry. "He said that he would speak with the Captain after his tea." She didn't want to get in trouble with her employer, and it took her a few more seconds of watching the man to realize that he did not want to get in trouble with his higher-ups. "If no one answers, I'll take this back to the kitchen." It was unfortunate that she didn't sound as bold as she would have liked, but the fact that she hadn't been turned away must have meant she had some sway in the outcome of the conversation. She glanced at the man standing on the opposite wall and noticed he was avoiding making eye contact with his spectacled partner.

"All right. Go ahead." This time she would be the one knocking.

"Thank you," she muttered, not feeling very grateful. And so she found herself at the door, her knuckles smarting as they connected with the sturdy wood, each impact jarringly loud despite her attempt to knock softly. She cleared her throat and waited for a reply. The shade drawn over the window rustled on the other side of the door, and then the door knob turned.

Doing her best not to show her dismay, Mineko focused on the thick moustache while speaking. "I brought the tea Sakata-san asked for." Nakamura, probably just as thrilled to see her as she was to see him, opened his mouth, and a different voice came out.

"Is that my tea?" A whispered curse of one's forgetfulness followed. "Come in, come in!" The butler-doorman pursed his lips, paused a second, and then opened the door further, allowing her room to enter.

Sitting on a cushioned chair some ways from the bed, the businessman gestured her over. In a matching chair across from him sat a woman, straight-backed and refined compared to Sakata's cross-legged, relaxed figure. It looked like a meeting between a retired general and his protégé. The woman shifted in her seat—backwards—as if she had begun to stand when Mineko entered.

"Thank you, Matsumoto-san. I'm afraid I got roped in to the meeting sooner than I expected." Mineko only nodded, not confident enough to speak with the woman looking at her. Dark eyes set in a youthful face followed her like a hawk, analysing, glinting like shards of ice behind her lenses in the soft light. This must have been the Captain. If not her countenance, the gold bars displayed on her breast and sleeves certainly gave away her rank. "Would you like some tea, Captain?" Sakata inquired, his tone conversational. He reached for a cup. "Green tea is good for your health."

"No, thank you." The Captain glanced at him as she spoke, watching him sip at the warm beverage with something like disapproval.

"Set the tray over there by the window; I might pour myself a second cup." Mineko managed a stiff bow and walked past the seated man and woman, uncomfortable in the tense silence that settled in behind her.

Except the room wasn't really silent.

A rattle hissed from the bed, even and slow, sickening. It took all of her self-discipline to keep her eyes trained on the pine-green curtains pulled over the window and the cleared desk in front of it.

 _You'll stare if you look. You'll embarrass yourself and Sakata-san. And Maria-san. It's none of your business._

She turned around and walked back the way she came, stopping to bow again to her employer. "Goodnight, Sakata-san."

"Goodnight, Matsumoto-san." The elderly man smiled at her, and she, in turn, offered a small smile of relief. She resumed her path to the door and noticed Nakamura frowning at her. She wasn't sure if she could imagine any other expression on his face, and she lowered her gaze.

Her eyes slipped to the side, glimpsing the bedside and the bed's occupant. Bandages in the crumpled sheets, two people—one of them Maria—adjusting something on a round table drawn up next to the mattress, a lamp with a thin shawl draped over the shade to soften the light.

She exited the guest suite without a second glance.


	3. A Trivial Request

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 **I do not own** _ **Ao no Exorcist**_ **.**

* * *

Mineko spent her day off at the rehabilitation center, waiting for a phone call or text message that never came. She checked her phone every thirty minutes, wondering if her message notification or ringtone was loud enough, wondering if she had accidentally switched the sound mode to silent, wondering if maybe she should call Maria, just in case.

By the end of the day her phone's battery was depleted. 

* * *

The storm clouds had departed the night before and left a new expanse of wetlands in their wake. Dirt roads on the outskirts sucked foot and wheel in like quicksand, lakefront residents saw the lake at their doorstep, and those living in areas of lower elevation did not dare to walk through the shallows that had filled over the course of two days. Trains were delayed from arriving and departing, and so Mineko found herself carefully wading through the water that had steadily risen to her ankles. The taxi she left half a mile back, imagining it would become stranded before it reached the main gate.

It took her over half an hour to make it to the stone pillars, and by the time her boots splashed up the porch steps, the sun was well up and glittering through the trees. As if she needed reminding that she was late for her shift.

She knocked twice on the front door, and looked down to assess how much wet filth she would be tracking inside. The door clicked softly and opened slowly, scaring her nonetheless. Maria typically unlocked it about fifteen minutes before her shift was due to begin; the knocking was just a declaration that she had arrived, and followed by a call once she walked inside.

"Good morning." Mineko found her voice after a beat, peering at the black suit looking down at her. Did he recognize her? She didn't recognize him. "Mari-ia-san…"

There were no cars at the gate, and the grounds, as far as she had seen, were deserted. She had hoped—foolishly, prematurely—that their guests packed up and left…in the middle of the deluge…while one member of their group was in all appearances, bedridden. Had she known a stranger would be standing behind the door, waiting for her, she would have prepared something to say.

"I know I'm late. The r-ro-oads are bad." The man opened the door for her, and she walked in without another word. Maybe he did recognize her?

As the black suit shut the door, she ventured a shrill, "Good morning," that did not crack the silence of the manor. It seemed that it was not only early to bed, but late to rise.

 _Is Maria-san in the guest suite again?_ She glanced at the black suit out of the corner of her eye as she tugged off her boots and slipped on her slippers.

"Do you know where Maria-san is?" She pulled out her phone and shut it off, wary of the man watching her. He shook his head, and Mineko looked away. She left the black suit in the hall and headed for the kitchen to stow away her backpack, keeping an eye out for the caretaker.

The windows she passed were curtained, confirming her suspicions that the morning routine had not been started despite the late hour. _She must be in the guest suite._

Steeling her nerves, she marched to the other side of the manor, intent on finishing her business there so she could get to work and focus on those chores that needed doing.

Four black suits stood at casual attention on either side of the guest suite doors, the number down from what it had been two nights ago. With tentative optimism, she considered the possibility that the guests' stay might not be so distracting after all—aside from the man at the front door. She would rather they all stay here, out of sight and out of mind.

She approached the double guard and stated her business. "I need to let Maria-san know that I'm here." Not one stutter. She liked the sound.

"I don't think Maria-san is inside." The man who spoke looked to his counter-part, who shook his head.

"Oh." She hadn't anticipated that. She scratched her arm, glancing sideways. "Do you know w-wh-where she is?"

Both men shook their heads, and it was the elder of the two who commented, "I haven't seen her since early this morning."

"Oh. Um, thank you." She bowed stiffly and made a hasty exit.

 _I'll start with the usual routine. If Maria-san's in the manor, I'll run into her._ From one room to the next she travelled, pushing aside curtains and looking out the windows in hopes of catching the flap of a purple or blue yukata on the porch.

On the stairs she encountered her employer, dressed in a suit but appearing to be in no hurry to leave the estate. He looked mildly surprised to see her given the condition of the roads, and said so. She greeted him as she stepped aside, and asked the whereabouts of the caretaker.

"Maria-san? I thought she was downstairs? Is she not with the others?"

"The men I spoke to said they have not seen her since early this morning. I've just begun opening the w-windows, but I haven't seen her." Sakata paused next to her on the stairs.

"Well, she's here somewhere," he grinned, and she forced a smile on her face.

"I'll just check the second floor, then." She passed him, the steps groaning under her, and heard him call out.

"I'll let you know if I see her. And I'll tell her you're here. She'll be glad for the help." Turning the corner at the top of the stairs, she set about her task.

Five rooms down, and still no sign of the caretaker. She breathed a quick sigh of concern, which came out sounding like frustration.

At the end of the hall she pulled open the curtains, squinting down at the yard made into a watery reflection of the sunlit sky. Partially concealed by the corner of the porch, she noticed a person doubled over, yukata knotted at the knees, just above a pair of boots. When the figure straightened, she saw a mix of brown and silver hair drawn into a bun.

"Maria-san?" She spoke aloud, though the woman could not hear her. _What is she doing outside?_

Mineko flew through the rest of the upstairs, tugging aside shades with little care before rushing down to the front hall. Tugging on her boots and dancing awkwardly around the black suit standing at the front door without an explanation, she squeaked down the porch steps and splashed into the front yard. Water rippled around her feet as she picked them up and set them down, sending small, dirty waves of grass whipping back and forth like seaweed in an ocean current.

In front of the steps leading the guest hall entrance she found Maria, setting down a grey piece of…something…on a towel. The older woman looked up at the sound of her arrival, looking more surprised than Sakata.

"You shouldn't have come today. The television says there is flooding everywhere; the roads aren't safe…"

"I thought you might need help. I-I di-idn't know how bad the flooding would be here." Embarrassed, she felt a warmth creep up her neck in the chill of the morning air. Looking down, she put in an unnecessary amount of effort into watching where she placed her feet, trying to hide her flush. "W-what are you doing out here?"

After a slight pause that conveyed her persisting disapproval, the woman answered, "This is from the roof." Mineko looked up at what she was holding in her hand. Maria set down the tile on the pile of shards in the middle of the spread towel. Tilting her head back, she looked at the roof two stories above, and Mineko followed her gaze to the bare patch beside the gutter. "We'll need to have someone come and fix it, once the standing water's gone. I didn't see any water spots on the ceiling but that doesn't mean there isn't a leak."

"What about the rest of the roof?"

"Did you see something?"

"No, I just meant… If one area is damaged, should you replace the w-wh-w," she fussed, "the entire roof?"

Maria sighed heavily. "I hope not. But it's been several years since the siding was replaced."

"It might be more beneficial to replace everything than to repair the damage." Maria said nothing as she looked at the fragments on the towel, and Mineko shut her mouth. It wasn't her place to make such a suggestion—especially when spending was involved—and with the mysterious guests settling in the manor, Maria already had enough to worry about.

"I-i-f you have other things to do, Maria-san, I can fini-ish out here. Or I can go back inside… I only opened the w-w-windows."

Maria looked at the yard in front of her, turned towards the towel on the stairs, and then returned her gaze to the water. She looked like someone with too much on her mind.

"If you will continue looking in this area, I'd appreciate it. Many of the tiles are cracked, but did not shatter. I think you'll find everything that fell here," she waved her arm to encompass the one side of the manor. "When you're done, wrap up the towel and bring it to the kitchen. We won't throw it away just yet." She splashed up the steps and removed her boots with a swift tug, a few strands of hair hanging behind her ears after falling out of her bun. "Be careful out here. You can't tell where the ground slopes."

"I will." Mineko gave her a slight wave as she walked through the door before angling her head down, squinting against the reflected sunlight. The murky water wouldn't help her search either, and she wasn't about to start reaching blindly into the water for potentially sharp pieces of roofing. Rolling her sleeves up past her elbows, she bent forwards, hands on her knees. 

* * *

Mineko's boots thumped on the second step, her backside following suit on the fourth. It was hot working with the sun shining from above and below, and the shade of the porch was a welcome relief from the heat and light. For a moment she closed her eyes, the back of her eyelids glowing bright from the strain of squinting. Out of instinct she raised her hands to rub her eyes. The feeling of water trickling down her forearms and soaking into the bunched fabric at her elbows had her rethinking the move, the grit of damp earth rubbing between the tips of her fingers. She let out a soft sigh and pressed her head against her shoulder, wiping away the sweat gathered over her upper lip and forehead.

Blinking against daylight when she opened her eyes, she looked at her collection on the towel. It seemed Maria had found the majority of the fallen pieces; her own contribution to the pile was quite insignificant in comparison. Holding the corners of the towel, she pulled them in to the center, inspecting the fabric for rips as the contents clinked and grated within. After she tied a knot, she wiggled out of her boots and hoisted the bundled fabric into her arms, holding it gently but firmly to her chest as she climbed the remaining steps.

Not in the least bit enthusiastic about passing through the guest hall, she took the roundabout way to the kitchen. _I should have come this way to meet Maria-san instead of trudging through the water. Why did I do that?_

Thinking of the black suit standing behind the front doors, she passed the main entryway in favour of following the porch to the kitchen door at the rear. Adjusting her load in one hand, she braced a shoulder against the wall and shoved the door open. Crossing the empty room, she set down the bundle on the counter, checking once more than there were no holes or tears before leaving the way she had come.

 _Next time I'll bring a spare set of clothes to change into. Something lighter—and looser_ , she thought as she pulled at the damp neck of her shirt, feeling the stick of moisture behind her knees, between her thighs, and under her arms. She hoped she didn't smell.

Going back for her boots, she considered looking in the garden shed for something she could use to mark the area where she has been searching for the fallen tiles, to warn anyone who ventured out in the yard when the flooding subsided that smaller fragments not swept away by the water might be tangled in the grass. But the shed was farther back from the manor, hidden behind a copse to maintain the natural aesthetic of the property. And she couldn't recall if the structure was raised off the ground or not. It might have been wise to leave the shed be, for now. _I'll ask Maria-san later._

She reached for her boots, picking them up and then setting them back down. _Just a quick break._ She sat on the steps and leaned back onto her hands, waiting for her skin to cool in the autumn breeze. It would be warmer inside, and she wasn't keen on overheating before her work really began. _I should have had a sip of water when I was in the kitchen_ , she lamented.

Letting her head tilt back, she looked up at the ceiling, following the lengths of wood with her eyes until she found one area to scrutinize. A congregation of soot sprites hovered near the corner of the porch, round bodies bumping against the roof as if they could move in no other direction but up.

She heard the door behind her open, and twisted around. "S-Sakata-san."

"Matsumoto-san?"

"Sorry, you startled me." She pulled her boots in front of her. "I just returned for my boots. I'm fi-inished out here."

"Maria told me about the roof." His lips were drawn into an unhappy line, although his posture was relaxed. "She's convinced that there's water damage. I haven't seen anything, and neither has she, but she's upstairs checking again."

"Oh." She stood, not sure how to respond to the news. Using her wet boots as an excuse to turn away from the businessman, she shook them out over the side of the porch, dislodging some of the mud wedged between the grooved soles but doing little to remove the stray blades of grass wrapped around the rubber.

It took a few extra seconds for her to reason that the man did not come to talk about the roof. "Is there something I can help you with?" If the importance of Maria's work outweighed his need, it must have been a trivial request.

"Do you know where the window screens are kept? The guest suite needs some circulation." Mineko wanted to point out that it was a little chilly outside, but thought better of it when she remembered the smell in the room. It was also all right to open the windows and do without the screens, but she had a feeling that the request was intentionally specific.

"Yes. They're in the hall closet." There were four hall closets. "I can bring them to you," she said, _to give them to the guests_.

"Yes, they'll appreciate it. One will do." She bowed at him and hurried down the porch to the front doors, holding her boots at arms' length.

Inside, she searched the first closet and found table linens, old kitchenware, and a couple of rugs that belonged in an antique shop rather than the cramped confines of a storage closet. On the top shelf of the second hall closet, she found a stack of screens. She needed a footstool to reach them, and, naturally, the largest screen was at the bottom of the pile. It took almost five minutes to find the pins to secure the screen in the box erroneously labelled "toothpicks."

Stowing the pins in her pocket, she hoisted up the long frame and shuffled down the hall, minding the corners as she tried to keep it parallel with her torso. One of the black suits at the first suite knocked on the door as she maneuvered around the corner. By the time she reached it, the door was open and Sakata was waiting for her.

"Thank you, Matsumoto-san." He accepted the screen, and a small weight lifted off her shoulders.

"I-I-I have the pi-pi-ins, too," she added, digging around in her pocket. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Nakamura watching her. She pulled out the last pin and dropped the handful into his upturned palm, not meeting his critical gaze.

"Let me know-w if you need anything else." Her voice was low, made quieter by her dipping her head in a small bow. Ready to depart, she was interrupted by a comment from Sakata, who was already standing by the parted curtains and frowning at the frame in his hands.

"The screen should have an outward facing side, I believe." Someone in blue whom she did not recognize unlocked the window, and it slid up with a resentful squeak. Who knew when it was last opened?

"The thicker side of the frame f-f-fits into the bottom of the window," she explained to her employer, watching the pins disappear in the doorman's fist. "There are braces on the w-window that come out to keep it upright. The p-pi-ins go on the side."

"…I don't see the braces…"

"Excuse me." Mineko mumbled, brushing past Nakamura without his permission. Fast enough to slip by before he could object, before the black suits outside could interfere, she made a beeline for Sakata, her eyes glued to the floor until she reached the window in front of the desk.

"Excuse me." She squeezed between Sakata and the man in blue scrubs, the edge of the desk digging into her hip as she leaned against it to grasp at the outside of the window frame. Her fingernails caught on something, and she pulled out and down. A four-sided bar as thick as a pencil swung down after a couple more tugs before snapping into place.

"There's one on the other side too," she said when she noticed the nurse had moved to the other side of the desk. He mimicked her actions, and when both braces were down, she pushed the window higher. "The screen slides up against the bottom of the w-window." She stepped back for Sakata. "Now you can push the window down. I-it should be tight, and the pins…" She turned, bumping into Nakamura who had snuck up behind her. "Sorry. Sorry." He didn't say anything, and she took another step back to get out of his way.

It seemed silly to need four people to put in one window screen. _But only one of us knows how to properly set up the screen._ She sniffed and rubbed her nose, hiding the trace of a grin behind her hand.

When Nakamura was inserting the last pin, she spoke up again. "The window wo-won't lock with the screen, so you'll have to take it out i-if you want to lock it."

The nurse, no longer needed, went back to the bed. Nakamura turned around and Mineko nodded at Sakata and then him, keeping her eyes on the floor. "Let me know if you need anything else." She said it a little louder this time, with every hope of being ignored. Sakata was going to dismiss her; she could tell—without even looking at him—just by the shortest of pauses after she had finished speaking.

A burst of coughing intruded upon the silence a fraction of a second before the words left Sakata's mouth, the beginnings of his dismissal overwhelmed by the sound. Everyone turned to the bedside, none more dismayed than Mineko—for a different reason than the others.

The person under the bedsheet took a gasp of breath and continued to cough, a wretched, wet, gagging noise that made her skin crawl. No longer a steady, background beat, the monitor beeped louder.

Nakamura reached the bedside in three long strides and began speaking in low tones to the nurse—or perhaps to the bedridden figure. The nurse said something and reached down to pull away the mask that had been covering the bandaged nose, a fresh towel in his other hand.

A spasm jerked the limbs of the patient, and then the upper body rocked forward, head and shoulders leaving the cushion of pillows in one swift motion. The sheet pooled at the waist, revealing the wrapped torso of a man slimmed by sickness. One final cough, and a glob of dark liquid spilled down his chin and landed on the stomach bandages, a stain instantaneously sinking into the white material and crawling towards his lap. With that final effort, the man seemed to lose all strength, swaying back towards the pillows to be caught by Nakamura, who kept him propped up as the nurse brought the towel to his mouth.

The monitor's signal began to slow. The nurse said something, and Nakamura responded by shifting his grip on the limp patient.

Mineko stared at them: the two healthy men, the mummified man with bloodstains on his lips and stomach, on the blanket. It felt surreal, having someone so unwell—contagious?—dying?—in the manor, in the guest suite of all places. She still didn't know who he—who any of them, really were. Sickened and entranced, she did not hear her name being called until a hand tapped her shoulder.

"—Mineko." Her head tipped back an inch and then she turned sharply, eyes alert and focused. Sakata withdrew his hand and returned it to his coat pocket, a bystander like her. "Bring more pillows for them."

She swallowed and said nothing, turning her back on him, on the bed, and the men hovering over it. She turned left into the hall, took five steps, then stopped and spun around, having realized she was traveling in the wrong direction.

 _More pillows. Pillows. Pillows._ The word circled in her head, repeating itself like a mantra until a pillow slipped off the shelf and dropped on her upturned face. She grunted at the impact and pulled it off, her braid whipping back and forth as she shook her head and exhaled through her nose. Sniffing, she looked at the three pillows in her arms. She pulled down a fourth. Hugging the cushions snugly to her body, she grabbed a handful of pillow covers and hurried down the hall.

The door was still partially open from when she had left, and she bumped it farther aside as she entered. Dropping the pillows at the foot of the bed, she opened one cover and stuffed a cushion inside.

Moving around to the headboard, she fluffed the pillow and stepped next to Nakamura, who was still holding the bandaged patient. "Here?" she asked the nurse as she settled the pillow where she imagined him might want it.

"Yes. Right there." His voice was soft and steady despite the bloody towel in his hands and slumped figure in front of him. This situation was nothing new to him.

"How-w many? Pillows?" She went back to the pillow pile and grabbed another cover. "Three should be enough. Set that one next to the other and put one more in front. I want him to be nearly upright." Mineko nodded and placed the second pillow, then the third, following the nurse's instructions.

When she moved to the opposite side of Nakamura, her eyes wandered to the blanket. "I can bring a clean sheet," she heard herself say in spite of herself, gaze settling on the bloody stomach bandages and freezing there. She couldn't do anything about that.

Nakamura eased the man back against the pillows, and the nurse adjusted the mask over the lower half of his face. A raspy breath fogged the transparent plastic.

"I would appreciate that." She turned to the nurse and saw him looking at her. His tone had a calming effect, and this time, when she left the bedside, the panic was not rushing through her veins. Retrieving the spare sheet from the wardrobe, she unfolded the cloth and looked to the nurse for guidance.

He was already tugging the sheet out from the bed corner closest to him. "If you can pull the rest of this out on your side, Nakamura-san? Be careful around the equipment."

To her, he asked, "Is there a basket we can throw all of this in?"

"Yes. Yes." Eager to turn her attention away from the man before the old sheet was fully removed—he might have been naked below the waist, for all she knew—she took her time returning to the wardrobe. From the back corner she slid out the laundry basket, her gaze cast downwards until she returned to the bedside. They had already covered the man with the fresh sheet, the cloth pulled over his hips and tucked tight and neat beneath the mattress, leaving the stained wrap exposed.

"Everything can go in here." Nakamura dropped the rolled up bedsheet in the basket and the nurse tossed in the bloody towel, both items in need of bleaching.

"Thank you… Matsumoto-san." There was a hint of uncertainty in the nurse's voice, as if he doubted his memory. She nodded to tell him he had gotten her name right.

"You're w-welcome."

The man in the bed let out a sigh: a long, rough breath that somehow managed to sound soft.

The men looked down at him. Even Mineko let her focus slip, a guilty curiosity taking hold.

He turned his head a fraction towards Nakamura, eyelids parting a crack to let in daylight over bright irises. It was difficult to tell if he could see the man beside him or if the slight movement had been intentional. His eyes opened a little wider when they shifted away from the buttons on Nakamura's suit and landed on the partially opened door.

Envisioning brilliant green eyes meeting hers, Mineko dipped her head and caught a strong whiff of blood. "I-I'll take care of this," she hurried, trying not to breathe in any more of the stench or make a face. "There's an extra pillow here, if you need it." She spun around, basket in her arms, and dismissed herself, not bothering to ask if anyone required additional help. Later, she wouldn't be able to recall if Sakata had still been in the room when she suddenly, if not a little rudely, departed.

With her arms full, she left the door opened behind her and sped down the hall, around the corner and out of sight. 


	4. A Knock on the Door

**Thank you to those of you who added this fic to your alert/favorite list or left a review! I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far!**

 **Please read, review, and enjoy! : )**

 **I do not own** _ **Ao no Exorcist**_ **or** _ **The Second Coming**_ **.**

* * *

"Maria-san. Maria-san." Mineko waved around the door, asking the caretaker to hurry with each flick of her wrist.

Maria paused halfway down the hall and changed course, glancing from room to room with a troubled frown as though she expected to find something out of place. Mineko pulled the door open farther for her to enter the washing room and peered down the hall after her.

Empty.

"What is it? What's wrong?" She shut the door before turning to face the questioning woman, imagining what the expression on her face must have looked like for Maria to assume something bad had happened.

"I know it i-i-isn't really my business… Um…" She broke eye contact to watch her hands pinch one another. Figuring she needed to start over after such a weak opening, she squared her shoulders and side-eyed the wash. "It's about Sakata-san's guests." There was no polite way to say the next part.

"I thi-ink they should leave." She swallowed, glancing at Maria's face.

"What I mean is," she continued, trying to explain her reasoning without sounding insulting, "the man in the guest room should be moved. The man i-i-in the bed. He's sick, and he needs to be in a hospital wh-where doctors can take care of him. If something happens to him—i-if his condition worsens—I don't think w-w-we—you and I, the nurse, or anyone else here will be able to help. And I don't want to be responsible if…" Her hands moved in small circles in front of her, finishing her thought without words.

"I'm sorry, I—," she gestured to the wash and the container of bleach beside the empty laundry basket.

"Mineko—"

"I don't mind this—"

"Mineko-chan." Her superior's sharp tone scooped her out of her pooling thoughts. She turned her head and was caught by her gaze, dark eyes staring pointedly at her as though they had been trying to make contact for a while.

When Maria spoke again, her tone was gentle. "You're right, Mineko-chan, that man is sick. But there is nothing more the hospital can do for him."

Her mouth fell open, and after a moment without speaking, she shut it, listening. It seemed as though the caretaker knew more about their guests than she was letting on. Would she be willing to answer more questions?

"That's why he's here: to rest. When he is well enough, everyone will pack their things and be on their way."

Mineko glanced at the closed door, wondering if there was someone standing on the other side. "Is he dying?" she asked, voice quiet with the shame of pressing about their infirm guest. Truly, his condition was none of her business, but if Sakata continued to call her into the suite and have her assist in his care, she deserved to know _something_.

Maria sighed, a small, sad smile on her face. "No, he isn't dying." She picked up the bleach container and set it on the shelf, the humming of the washing machine filling her brief pause. "You shouldn't worry about him, Mineko-chan; you don't need to. He's not your responsibility. There's a nurse—an educated, capable, private nurse—looking after his health. We're here," she brushed her hands over the waist of her outfit, "to make sure everyone is comfortable. That's the most anyone could ask for, right now."

Mineko tugged her braid and nodded. The tension left her shoulders, her posture deflating slightly as she breathed out. "Okay."

Maria slowly crossed her arms. "Did…" Her movements stilled, and then resumed when she asked, "Did someone ask you to do something that made you uncomfortable?"

"Wh—no. No! Sakata-san wanted the w-window screen." She hesitated, then added, "The laundry, too." Maria blinked at her. "I'm fine. I just…he… I didn't know—about him—the man—w-wh-what was happening, and I was upset…" She chuckled nervously and looked away, absent-mindedly pulling at one of her sleeves. "You put me on the spot, Maria-san. Now-w I can't answer straight." Her cheeks felt warm.

"You'll be okay." Maria smiled at her embarrassment, a teasing glimmer in her eye. "Your heart is in the right place, Mineko-chan. There's nothing wrong with that. Thank you for being honest with me." Her face grew hotter, and Maria finally laughed as she stepped out of the room, leaving her alone to struggle with the compliment. 

* * *

Mineko sat up in the near-dark, a chill tickling her arms as the blankets fell away from her shoulders. The room was quiet except for the clock on the wall, which softly ticked every other second and chimed on the hour. It was rhythmic, monotonous, and it should have put her straight to sleep. However, the beat of the seconds' hands had become an unyielding reminder that she was awake nowhere near a good night's rest.

The clock struck one.

Throwing the blankets off of her legs, she touched the ground and blindly felt for her slippers. Having secured the borrowed robe over her borrowed night gown—which was not only one size too big, but also reflected the fashion-sense of a middle-aged woman—she opened the bedroom door and leaned into the hall. Seeing no one, she stepped out and shut the door behind her.

Only on two other occasions had she spent a night at the manor, and neither of those instances saw visitors in the guest suites. The hallways, long and dimly lit, seemed the perfect place to see shadows dance and feel the menace of spying eyes. Portraits moved ever so slightly, but never when one was looking at them. And there was no question about avoiding the bedroom with the shelf of sculpted geishas and kimono-clad dolls. She expected to be more at ease having a larger group of people spending the night with her in the old estate, but found after every step on a creaking section of floor that she was much more conscious of the disturbance she was creating than the threat of any phantom. How far would the sounds carry? Did she look like she was snooping? Would one of the guests, such as the man stationed at the front doors, confront her?

She picked up her pace, her eyes wandering to the bottom of the staircase when her feet reached the top step. She could not see the front doors or a sentry, her perch too high to obtain a decent view of the hall without the sloped ceiling getting in the way.

When she had nearly reached the ground floor she turned, meeting the gaze of the woman by the front doors. There was no mistaking the unearthly pale face she had encountered a few days ago, the woman's expression just as unopen now as it was then.

"Good evening," Mineko muttered awkwardly when she did not speak, and cast her gaze down to the last few steps, her slippers clapping as they finished the descent in a hurry. Whether the woman decided to humour her with a response or not, she had already made up her mind to avoid looking at her doll-like complexion again. Pretending to adjust her robe, she turned her back on her and proceeded to the kitchen, relaxing when she could no longer sense a pair of eyes on her.

Closing the kitchen doors with a small sigh, she flicked on the overhead lights. The vents hummed quietly as she poured herself a glass of milk and leaned against the cool counter, her robe cushioning the press of granite against her ribs. She sipped at her drink.

Sunrise was hours away, but she did not doubt that it would come too soon to her weary mind. Staying the night had been Maria's idea. It would have been risky to take a taxi out at night with so much standing water on a less-travelled road. Given how unlikely it was for water levels to have significantly receded over the past half day, the chances of a cab making it to the front gate were slim, and she had needed little convincing from Maria to wait until morning before setting out. With any luck, the trains might be running on a more normal schedule when she returned.

She tilted her hand, the milk creeping up the side of the glass with the motion. Now that the rain had stopped and people began to cautiously venture out from the shelter of their homes, the rehabilitation center would be inundated with calls about injured or sick wildlife—and strays. And with poor road conditions, the majority of callers would no doubt rely on someone else to collect an injured animal rather than transport it themselves. "That's going to be fun," she mumbled sarcastically and downed the remainder of her beverage.

She put the glass in the sink and turned on the faucet, waiting for the water to heat as she added soap to the sponge. Washing dishes had always been a chore that required little effort on her part, and so as she began to scrub the glass, she was vaguely aware of her thoughts drifting, her hands moving from memory while she stared at the lip of the drain. The glass on the door rattled, and Mineko started.

"Yes?" She looked up from the sink, expecting the person on the other side to let themselves in.

"Maria-san wants to speak with you." The figure on the other side of the door shifted his weight forward.

 _What?_ Her lips formed the words as she frowned.

"She's waiting in the guest suite."

It was—she turned to the blinking light over the stove—almost one-thirty in the morning. Maria wanted to talk _now_?

"One moment," she called, rinsing the glass one final time under the faucet and setting it on the rack to dry.

It didn't sound right. Perhaps she had misheard the man?

She wiped her hands on the closest towel and checked her appearance before opening the double doors. The messenger was gone.

"You couldn't wait a moment?" She grumbled and turned off the lights. She hadn't recognized the voice, but the abundance of black visible through the frosted glass hinted at the man's position.

Guided down the hall by the warm glow of lamps above her head, she surreptitiously glanced towards the staircase as she passed the front hall, its architecture made a cold and forbidding black in the absence of light. But it wasn't what she saw that stopped her in her tracks—it was what was missing.

The pale woman was gone.

She took one step towards the front hall before catching herself. She had someplace she needed to be, someone who was waiting for her. She returned to her intended path. Ten steps in, she started walking faster, her muscles tensing as her eyes swept to her peripheral, head still facing forward.

Something was behind her. At the end of the hall, peering out of the tea room, trailing a couple of paces—she didn't know precisely where, but she could feel it at her back: a familiar sensation she had experienced only once, while walking home in middle school.

There had been something large on the road, its girth too great to keep it from straddling the edge of the sidewalk and the pavement. Unrecognizable, it moved noiselessly between two lampposts flickering to life, crawling slowly as if its mass was almost too much to support. It had trembled in her direction.

The memory was enough.

Her feigned composure dropped, and Mineko ran. She did not scream, did not turn to look behind, terrified of what she imagined she alone would see. The left turn in the corridor was coming up fast. There would be guests—black suits—when she turned down the guest hall, people she was fairly certain were more suited for handling emergencies and security breaches.

She nearly tripped on a rug and lost a slipper, staggered, and knocked her elbow as she cut the corner.

Where were the sentries?

Throwing etiquette aside, she collided forcefully with the first door and twisted the handle, a gasp of relief and exertion rushing out of her when it granted her access to the room within. She shut the door behind her, fidgeting to secure the lock.

"Maria-san." She nearly coughed and pressed her back to the door, trying to think over the sound of blood rushing in her ears. No one answered. Sweeping her eyes over the room, she realized there was no nurse or caretaker at the bedside.

"Maria-san? Nakamura-san?" Her voice was a breathless hiss, instinct warning her to keep quiet. She looked at the open door to the bathroom and darkness stared back. "Oh no. Oh no."

She inhaled sharply through her nose and scrambled away from the door as something knocked once from the other side, the vibration tingling against her spine. Adrenaline lending itself to her aid, she dragged both armchairs in front of the door and managed to scoot the carved dresser a few feet before her shaking limbs began to give out.

"The beast." A short, disbelieving laugh faded to a whimper. Retreating from the barricaded door, she knelt next to the bed and began searching for a pair of scissors, a scalpel, or anything else the nurse carried that could be used as a weapon. "Beast, beast, beast…" she whispered as she flipped up the lid of an unmarked box.

A wet cough punctured her mantra and she sprung to her feet. The covers rustled as the bandaged man stirred beneath them, slowly snaking one arm out from their warmth until it bumped a pillow beside him and stilled. His head tilted to the side, eyes blinking sleepily. In her haste to throw a plan together, she had forgotten that she wasn't really alone. She braced her arms on the mattress and leaned towards the center of the bed where the man laid, his upper body propped on an island of pillows.

"Hey. Hey, can you hear me?" What was she going to do about him? Could she do anything about him? Someone shouted in the hall, but she couldn't make out what was said. "Are you awake?" Bright green eyes opened further, searching for her voice. "There's… There's somethi-i-i—," her voice cracked and went silent, and she closed her fists on handfuls of blanket. She swallowed, struggling to speak audibly and steadily. He needed to know what was going on. He deserved an explanation for her intrusion and outburst, at the very least.

"W-w-what beast, i-it's hour come round at last, slouches towards Bethlehem…" The words tumbled out before she could catch them. Abruptly shutting her mouth, Mineko turned her head to look at the foot of the bed. "S-sorry. I'm not good at thi-is." About to lean away, she hesitated at the stutter of breath, reluctantly letting her gaze return to the bedridden man's face. A trickle of blood rolled down his exposed upper lip and slipped into his mouth, blurring a second later behind a foggy exhale on the plastic mask.

"Uh…" She watched another dribble of blood leak from his other nostril. Why was his nose bleeding? Was that to be expected? What did it mean? "I… Hang on, hang on…" She stopped talking, her mouth dry as bone.

A stack of folded hand towels was perched on the corner of the nightstand, pristine, white, and waiting to be spoiled. Clean towel in hand, she clenched her jaw and tried to avoid looking the man in the eyes, which, as it turned out, she could not refrain from given what she was about do.

There was something eerie about those eyes—beyond the unnatural shade; some brilliance that said the man beneath the wrappings, inside the emaciated husk, was anything but near the end. His left arm slid towards her but did not come close enough to touch, the meaning of the gesture lost without words to accompany it.

"Commander!" A pounding repetition on the wood startled her from her task. A pause followed, and then the door was hit hard, a splintering crack ringing sharply to the high ceiling and echoing in her ears. Another impact sent it colliding into the back of the dresser, the furniture sliding a few inches on the floor.

 _Let it be a black suit. Please, be a black suit._ A soft material touched her knuckles and she snatched her hand away from the bed, pressing it firmly against her chest as her gaze fell to the wrapped appendage lying motionless atop the blanket.

"Oh," she breathed out inaudibly. The dresser and armchair scraped forward, providing enough room for someone to squeeze inside. Having assumed it would be a person of small stature, she was surprised to see the blonde man muscle his way in, his head coming within a hair's breadth of the top of the doorframe.

"Move away from him." His expression was stern as it moved from the bed to her, his voice low and threatening. A second man wearing the same blue and white uniform entered the room, his appearance identical. She did not recognize them.

"He's bleeding."

"Step. Away."

Hiding the towel behind her, she took a step back from the bed, suddenly wary of the medical equipment around her. One of the twins approached her and she froze in place. "W-w-what's going on?" she whispered.

"Show me what you're holding." Mineko stared at him as though he spoke a foreign language, and then brought the towel out for him to see.

"I didn't know w-what else to do," she explained, watching the man take it and open it, inspecting the ordinary cloth as if it was something unordinary. His brother stood on the opposite side of the bed, pulling aside the blankets in places and readjusting them in others when the nurse stepped up beside him.

"What are you doing in here?" Her head whipped towards the broken door as Maria navigated around the cluttered furniture, the woman's face bright in anger and eyes wide with worry. "What are you _doing_ in here?" Not knowing how to adequately explain what had happened in the past five minutes, she said nothing as Maria stomped her way. The guard put out an arm to block her path when it became clear that caretaker intended to grab, hug, or throttle her.

"She is employed by the Sakata family." Maria addressed the blonde with fists at her sides. Although she appeared ready to knock the man's arm away, she made no move to touch him. "I am responsible for her, not you."

"And I am responsible for what happens to him," the man answered without missing a beat. Mineko watched the tension flare between the two, neither willing to give, and then the white towel was tossed at her and she was fumbling not to drop it. "She's not allowed to leave the premises. The Captain will want to speak with her, and I'm sure she'll want to speak with you, too."

There were more people in the room now, black suits, blue uniforms, faces she did not know, moving about the cluttered space in a pattern that could only be described as organized chaos. Mineko followed each with her eyes, paying particular attention to the men wearing black, her attention returning to the door every time someone entered or departed. She strained to pick up individual voices in conversation, ticking her head one way and then another as she listened for a voice that sounded familiar.

She couldn't find the messenger. 


	5. Bethlehem and Blood

**Thank you to those of you who left reviews and words of encouragement, and to everyone who added this to a follow/favorite list! Your support means a lot to me, and I'm excited to share more of this story with you!**

 **Please read, review, and enjoy! : )**

 **I do not own** _ **Ao no Exorcist**_ **or** _ **The Second Coming**_ **.**

* * *

The Captain had not shifted once in her chair since sitting down, one leg crossed over the other and both arms tightly folded across her chest in an intimidating display of control. Her expression, as equally unchanging, could only be described as impassive bordering on disapproving.

"I will speak with your supervisors," she said at last, in a tone that made Mineko fear the worst. As if a judge and jury of one wasn't telling enough. "I appreciate your cooperation, and hope you will continue to cooperate with us throughout the remainder of this investigation. Until I return, you are to remain in this room under supervision, for security reasons. This matter is going to be settled today."

 _It's three in the morning._ Mineko couldn't think of anything better to say, so she kept the comment to herself. The cracked leather huffed beneath her as she readjusted herself in the chair and crossed her ankles.

A polite knock beat against the door separating them from the rest of the manor. The older woman glanced at her before standing, adjusting the hem of her uniform as she turned and strode to the door. As soon as she opened it, the man on the other side bent down towards her ear, his narrow shoulders bunching forwards like a gargoyle's, and began speaking quickly in a hushed tone. The Captain stepped out of the room, partially closing the door behind her so that Mineko could not hear their discussion.

Suppressing a sigh, Mineko hugged herself and let her eyelids shut for a few seconds. She was tired, wary, and—still dressed in only a borrowed nightgown and light robe—cold. Based on the Captain's response to her account, she could now add 'anxious' to the list.

With no witnesses to corroborate her summary of events before setting foot in the guest suite, it would be difficult to prove that she had no ulterior motives. Maria obviously had no idea why she was in the suite, and of all the eyes that glanced her way, not one pair showed a trace of understanding. Furthermore, she received no explanation as to _why_ locking herself in the guest room when she believed her life was in danger merited punishment. No one was willing to share what had happened while she was barricaded in the guest suite, and so she had no way of knowing if the one chasing her—the 'intruder,' she called it in her statement—had been apprehended. Even the Captain evaded her questions with the shrewdness of a spokeswoman.

Something sounded softly and she opened her eyes, turning towards the door.

The Captain stood with one black-clad hand wrapped around the handle, her arm stiff and shoulders square. "He wants to speak with you." She released the door handle and the brass clacked back into its original position.

 _He's going to fire me._ The cold sunk deeper, into the pit of her stomach, and Mineko felt bile rise with her as she pushed herself off of the cushions. Studiously avoiding the woman's analytical gaze, she stepped into the hall.

The man in black, who had not departed after delivering his message, simply said, "Follow me," and started away, as if she needed guiding through the manor that she knew like the back of her hand.

The Captain fell into step beside her. She still didn't know any names aside from Nakamura; not that it would probably matter soon.

There appeared to be a stain on the hardwood just shy of the first guest suite that she had not noticed before, the dark spots only now evident thanks to the bright tape boxing the area like a crime scene. The splintered door at the end of the hall had also been sectioned off, the tarp hiding the damage doing little to stop the draft sneaking in from the porch, the material crinkling inward with every breath of wind.

When the black suit knocked, Nakamura answered the door with his usual frown. "In private. He wants to speak to her alone."

This bit of information must have been new, because the woman let out a terse, " _What?_ "

"He says," Nakamura raised his voice, meeting the expression that Mineko had been avoiding, "that he wants to speak with her alone."

"After what happened there can be no guarantee of his safety. Allowing him to converse alone, in his current condition, would be irresponsible and unwise."

Nakamura opened the door a little farther but did not remove himself from their path. "Would you like to speak with him yourself?" His voice was even-tempered.

 _Am I…not speaking with Sakata-san?_

"You have fifteen minutes." Mineko turned when she realized she was being addressed, but the Captain had already returned her attention to Nakamura.

"He needs to rest. Fifteen minutes should be plenty of time." The doorman said nothing, but opened the door wide enough for someone to step inside.

"Go," the Captain instructed with a hint of impatience when no one moved.

Mineko detached herself from the small escort, almost glad to join Nakamura's company. Her steps slowed to a stand-still as she entered the suite, unsure where to settle despite her options. The armchairs had been returned to their original places, the dresser was no longer in danger of being nicked by the door, and the abundance of uniformed men and women had disappeared without a trace.

Nakamura brushed past her and stopped at the head of the bed, addressing the man lying in it in a low voice.

Risking a glance at the open door, she saw the Captain watching and averted her gaze again.

"She has fifteen minutes alone with him." Nakamura spoke to the nurse as he straightened, smoothing the front of his suit until it was pressed to his liking. "We'll return when her time is up." The nurse blinked and nodded. He looked at Mineko, then put his clipboard face-down on the nightstand. Nakamura turned to the door and the nurse made to follow him.

The lanky physician paused, briefly, at the foot of the bed, his head swinging from the bedridden man to her. "If…" He spun around as if he'd lost something, and then pointed to a moveable cart with a collection of miscellaneous items. "There are tissues, if you need any," he offered in his calming baritone. "Please call if you need assistance." Mineko managed a nod, her expression blank as she watched him slip out the door and close it gently behind him.

Silence fell with the softness of a spring shower.

Opening the window above the desk had done the bedroom air some good; the stench had receded, overpowered by the scent of damp wood and wet grass. It would have served as a pleasant distraction if not for the memory of her previous experience already stealing her focus.

The Captain's words had not eased her troubled mind in the slightest. If anything, they confirmed that whoever—or whatever—was in the mansion, uninvited, had escaped. Her eyes wandered to the window and found the view obstructed by the curtains. The horrible smell might return, but for the safety of everyone, she hoped the window, and every other in the manor, were never opened again.

A memory from the day before, brief, like a photograph rather than a video clip, inserted itself into her line of thought: the cool breeze from the open window filling the washroom, the hair on the back of her neck rising to attention as she separated the stained laundry.

Insulated with the help of a functioning door, the temperature in the suite was considerably warmer than that of the hall, but Mineko pulled the robe tighter across her chest. Her hands abruptly ceased fidgeting over the trim of the garment in the middle of their task, and with some color on her cheeks, she glanced up at the bed, realizing she had been neglecting the one who called for her.

Were his eyes open? Could he even speak with the mask covering his nose and mouth? Lowering her hands to her sides before bringing them around her front to clasp together at her naval, she approached the foot of the bed. If he did speak, would she be able to hear him this far away? How strong was his voice?

She edged closer to his side.

Green eyes—the only spots of color on a tapestry of white—settled over her from between cracked eyelids. Swallowing her embarrassment, she returned his gaze and spoke first. "You wished to speak with me? Sir." The title sounded strange, but she did not know what else to call him.

A thought crossed her: he might not know what she was called either. _But he asked for me…_ She was trying to think of a way to slip in a proper introduction when he laid his wrapped cheek against the pillow.

"What did you…say earlier?" His voice was a rasp, hollowed behind the mask, and, had Mineko had more tact, she wouldn't have immediately asked if he wanted something drink. He ignored her concern and pressed. "What about Bethlehem?"

The inquiry and the fact that he could speak properly hit her like a splash of ice water, and she could not tell whether she blushed or blanched. "I-it's just poetry. I don't kno-w-w anything about Bethlehem. I ramble sometimes, um, when I'm nervous." Her smile was strained. "Helps me thi-ink."

She blinked and let her eyes slide down his neck to his shoulder. Maybe he was burned.

"I w-w-wasn't being very professional. Everything was happening so fast. I w-wasn't ready… I've never bee-en in a situation with, where…like that."

The man shifted under the covers, grunting quietly beneath the mask as he tried working himself into a more upright position. His breathing grew heavier, and Mineko swayed slightly, uncertain, her robe brushing her shins. Did she have the authority to tell him what to do? To offer suggestions?

 _Please stop moving._

As if reading her mind, he stilled, tensed, and let loose a coughing fit that rapidly changed from dry to wet, gradually increasing in volume until Mineko feared he would vomit with each heave of his upper body.

"Please." She moved to the edge of the mattress but no further, afraid to touch him. He didn't sound well, but if she tried to help, and someone burst into the room, would they point a finger at her? Her hands separated, hovering just above the blankets and curling around nothing but air. "Please."

He sunk back down, the fit subsiding, slouching against the pillows. One wiry arm slid up his chest as he wheezed, fingers scratching at the bandages over his clavicle before inching up further to prod at his mask.

Acting on a hunch, Mineko grabbed the box of tissues and returned to his side. When she tried to offer a tissue, he continued to work on the mask, his covered fingers struggling to find purchase under the plastic lip. His chin tucked forward with the effort.

"Let me help," she intervened at last, visibly bothered by the sight. The tissue fluttered into his lap as she carefully pulled the mask down and to the side. A dark crescent of blood glistened behind his chapped lower lip.

Retrieving the tissue she had dropped, Mineko raised it towards his face, grateful when he plucked it from her hand. He held the napkin flush to his mouth and sighed, the fingers of his one hand twitching to keep it in place. Behind the bandaged digits she could see crimson spreading, threatening to overwhelm the light fabric as it sagged in his grip.

"Y-you need another," her voice cracked. Out of courtesy, she intended to phrase it as a question—not as the statement she heard herself utter. She thrust three tissues at him, white fabric blossoming from her hand like a crumpled flower. "Um…" Bending at the waist, legs pressing against the side of the mattress, she leaned farther in, trying to replace the tissue in his hand before the next drops of blood fell. He pulled the soiled tissue from his lips and she held her other hand out, asking for an exchange. She did her best to keep her expression under control when the wet tissue dampened her palm.

 _He's not dying. This is not hospice. He's not dying. Maria-san said so._ She chucked the tissue into the trash bin by the bed, catching sight of but not lingering too long on the smaller bin labeled 'sharps.'

The man squeezed the used tissues in his fist and brought his hand down to rest against his chest, his eyelids beginning to shut.

"I'm sorry abo-o-out what happened earlier." The quiet of the room seemed to amplify her tiny voice to the volume of a shout, but it did not startle her companion. His eyes remained closed as his breathing evened. If he heard her apology he did not think it worth the time or energy to respond.

Mineko retreated into silence.

She wanted to leave the manor—not forever—and return when all the guests had gone, when the mansion settled back into a comfortable silence and the biggest concern was whether Sakata would call at the last minute to say he was coming home and needed dinner.

Her thumb worked against a red smudge on the opposite palm that wasn't going away. _I should have stayed at home. Then I wouldn't be up at this hour taking care of someone I don't know how to take care of, trying to explain things I can't explain, worrying about losing my job…_

Her thoughts took a sudden turn. _If the intruder got away, is he going to come back? Did the messenger have anything to do with it? Is someone trying to chase me away? What if he wants to hurt me? I live alone… If I get fired, and whoever—whatever—follows me home, attacks me…_ She had ceased rubbing at the blood on her palm, instead clutched her hand tightly.

Her fifteen minutes would probably be up soon. _I need to go._ She looked up and found a weary gaze on her. The self-dismissal died on her lips.

"I can take those tissues for you." She lifted the corners of her mouth a fraction and moved her hand towards his. He did not relinquish his grip.

"Tell me about Bethlehem… One more time." Her hand stopped short, and her dark eyes flickered to his face. Their gazes remained connected for some while, each additional second filling Mineko with something like trepidation as she brought her hand back to her side. She forced herself to look away, to the fistful of red and white tissues slumped against his chest, and only then could she remember the words.

"And w-wh-what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?" The tips of his bandaged fingers, dyed red by his blood, loosened their grip on the wad of tissues. His eyes held a far-off look, as though he was remembering something that was neither good nor bad.

"When you return…will you start the poem…from the beginning...? I want…to hear about the beast." He lifted his wrist, and Mineko numbly accepted the tissues from his trembling hand. Their gazes met again, and she could discern neither the emotion in his eyes nor whether or not he knew what was on her mind.

"I…" What should she tell him? "I don't know i-if I'll be coming back, sir. I mean… I like w-w-working here, and I don't want to leave, but…due to circumstances…" She didn't really want to share her suspicions with someone of his age for fear of receiving a labored, long-winded recollection of his youth, or being branded with the words 'dramatic' or 'gossip.' Her private life was none of his concern, anyway. "I might not return, sir, but I'm sure anyone could find the poem for you. I'll write the author and title dow-wn if you like."

The way he was looking at her made her uncomfortable. Not that it was intense or perverse; if anything, it was apathetic. And it took in too much of her.

"Let me throw this away, and then I'll find somethi-ing to write w-w-with." The dirty tissues plopped into the trash, and she washed her hands before returning to the bedside. Thinking of the nurse, she turned to the nightstand where the clipboard rest and picked up the pen lying next to it. She was just about to look for a scrap of paper when someone knocked on the door.

"Fifteen minutes are up." No sooner was the last muffled syllable called that the door swung open, the Captain letting herself in with Nakamura and the nurse trailing behind.

The man in the bed peered around Mineko and gave a barely perceptible nod to the spectacled woman when she took her place by his side. "Thank you, Captain."

"You need to keep your mask on," was her stern reply. Still, her hands were gentle as they lifted his head from the pillows and repositioned the mask over his face.

Mineko turned to the nurse, imagining she would have more luck with him than any other occupant. "I-is there paper I can borrow in here? Just a scrap?" The Captain twisted her head around. "I w-want to write something down for him." It took all of her self-control to keep her eyes on the nurse. She did not miss the quick glance he sent towards the older woman before shuffling through the papers on his clip board.

"Here," he tore off a piece from a sheet towards the back. "Will this do?"

"Yes, thank you." Perching the strip of paper on the corner of the nightstand, she scribbled the poem's title and paused to remember the author. Recollection proved a troublesome exercise with people staring at you.

"I'll leave this here, sir, if you w-w-would like to read it later." She looked up to make sure the man in the bed was still awake and paying attention, pointing at the nightstand when she saw that he was. Offering a quiet, "Good-night," and a stiff little bow in his direction, she waited for the Captain to direct her out into the hall.

It was only after an hour of dozing in an armchair under the bored expression of a black suit, that she realized she should have said, "Good morning." 


	6. There and Back Again

**Thank you to all of those who left a review and added this to their alert/favorite list! It makes my day! ^_^**

 **For those wondering: yes, the title of this chapter was inspired by J. R. R. Tolkien.**

 **Please read, review, and enjoy! : )**

 **I do not own** _ **Ao no Exorcist**_ **.**

* * *

Dawn was on the horizon; or at least, Mineko imagined it was, through the tangle of trees surrounding the manor.

After hours of sitting and waiting and dozing in an armchair, she was finally allowed to go to the kitchen and forage for food—under supervision, of course. No one had asked her if she was hungry: consideration came in the form of another black suit appearing at the door, saying, "Get something to eat."

But her stomach was not ready for a meal.

For several minutes she stared at the half-eaten pastry and empty glass on the table in front of her, the missing contents—now in her stomach—feeling heavier than usual. When she stood, she felt dehydration prickling at the corners of her mind alongside anxiety, light-headedness mixing with a dose of cold adrenaline that roiled in her system, whispering that something was coming, was going to happen soon.

As the black suit ushered her into the hall, she thought about asking when she could speak to Maria, and when they would allow her to return home. The burning curiosity was stamped out to the best of her ability as she came to the conclusion that inquiring would only invite more suspicion. It was funny how quickly she had become the stranger in the manor.

Wood creaked underfoot. "Mineko-chan."

Mineko spun around so violently that she bumped into the black suit behind her. "Maria-san." Without offering an apology, she hurried around the escort as he caught his balance. But the caretaker wasn't alone. She lifted her eyes to the pair of blonde twins following the woman, her pace faltering until she stopped altogether, several feet short of her destination.

Maria covered the remaining floor between them, her eyes traveling down to her slippers before rolling back up to her face. Up close she looked tired, the lines on her forehead molded into a slight frown, her eyelids held tight in a squint that seemed her best attempt at keeping alert and focused. "I need to speak with you."

"Go see the Captain. She's in the guest hall." Mineko looked at the brother who spoke, but he wasn't talking to her. Behind her, she heard the black suit leave, the heels of his shoes clacking down the hallway and around the corner.

"I—I need to talk to you too."

 _I think I should go, Maria-san. I've been thinking things over this morning… I'd rather not be here if I'll always be treated like this, looked at like I'm in the way or creating problems for everyone. But I'll come back. When this is all over, I'll come back._

"Let's talk elsewhere. The kitchen…?"

"No o-one is in there," she answered, glancing once again at the twins. They didn't appear inclined to give them privacy, their matching expressions stern and judgemental. One crossed his arms, almost as if saying, "Can we move things along?"

"That'll do." Maria laid a hand on her arm, steering her around the brothers. Just as she anticipated, the men did not stop at the kitchen doors, and they did not pause to shut them to prevent anyone from wandering in or eavesdropping. Whatever Maria wanted to discuss, she realized, must have already been known to others.

"What did you want to talk about?" Maria asked when the two of them were seated at the table, leaning in.

"You know, um… W-w-whatever you have to say is probably more important, so I'll w-wait…"

Maria was still for a moment, and then she straightened her back, folding her hands in her lap beneath the table. "We've spoken about what happened earlier this morning—Sakata and I, and our guests. For privacy, and safety, and security reasons, it has been agreed upon that only essential staff will remain here for the duration of their stay. As the owner of this estate, Sakata is obligated to stay, and I will keep things running as usual, assisting where I am needed."

Mineko was quiet. To the right, just over Maria's shoulder, the twins watched, arms crossed.

"We're going to send you home for the time being. The decision was unanimous. There's a lot going on now, and if another incident like this morning's occurs, we don't want you to be in harm's way or have to do something you're not prepared to do."

Nodding was the only thing Mineko found she was capable of doing. She should have spoken first. She shouldn't have lost her nerve. Now leaving wasn't a decision; it was an order. It didn't feel right.

"I'll call. When we're ready for you to return, I'll contact you." The expression on her face caused just as much pain as the words that went with it, hopeful and comforting as she pushed her away. "Think of it as an extended vacation. You'll be paid for the time off, and if you need anything, you can still call me. I might not be able to answer immediately, but I _will_ answer."

"Thank you, Maria-san." They weren't the words she wanted to say, but they came out nonetheless, mechanical and emotionless. Her fingertips pressed into her palms at the thought of Maria maintaining the estate on her own.

 _Why don't any of you help her? You're running around for the man in the guest suite, she's running around for all of you, and now she has manage the manor on her own?_

"I know it's upsetting, but this is for the best. I know…" Maria seemed to notice her attention on the brothers again. "What did you want to talk about?"

Her gaze dropped to the table, and she forced a shrug out of her stiff shoulders, a little shocked at the stab of anger in her chest. "I guess i-i-it's not important now. I w-was going to suggest I leave, so things could calm down, and…everyone came to the same conclusion. So w-w-we must be great minds, thinking alike…" She tried to chuckle, unsure if Maria believed her.

"Take some time to rest, Mineko-chan. I know you like to stay busy, and you're eager to help, but there's nothing wrong with setting aside time for yourself—and I don't mean spending your day doing chores or running errands. Don't think I don't know what you're thinking." The corners of her mouth lifted into a sheepish grin, and for a moment, the kitchen felt like it should have: warm, cozy, and filled with the quiet banter of companions before the start of the work day. 

* * *

The train arrived almost thirty minutes late, hissing to a stop beside the small platform covered in flecks of mud and shoeprints.

Mineko said nothing to the woman beside her, crossing the brightly-colored warning line when the doors slid open and taking the closest seat available. Her pale escort followed and sat at a respectable distance, back upright, knees together, and hands resting in her lap. She didn't talk either, barely even looked at Mineko when she twisted her head in her direction. The atmosphere in the taxi had been the same. It made her uncomfortable.

Mineko looked out into the early blue-grey of the opposite window, past her translucent reflection in the lighted car. It occurred to her that the unnamed woman might be enjoying the journey as much as she.

The train departed, and gradually civilization drifted away. Trees shrunk to the size of hedges and shrubs, until the countryside drowned them in an expanse of tall grass and mud. Swaying gently as it changed tracks, the train could have passed for a boat cruising on a lake, the green spires on either side of it nudged by the wind like fish in a current. Had she been alone, she would have closed her eyes and let exhaustion do what it will with her, but the unfamiliar presence accompanying her kept her rigid, unable to settle her eyes on anything for long. By the time the train reached her stop, she was very ready to say good-bye to the woman who stepped off the train with her.

"I w-w-walk from here." She stopped near the platform exit, unsure if the woman intended to follow her all the way to her front door. "It's about fi-i-ifteen minutes." Light hair swayed against white cheeks as her escort nodded. Mineko turned and exited the platform, holding back a tired sigh.

 _This is going too far. Do they expect me to sneak back to the manor? Why does she have to know where I live? Maybe they think I orchestrated the incident and I'm returning to my lair to meet my cohorts?_

There was still standing water pooled along the curbs, spilling onto sidewalks where the ground was uneven, creating a mirrorscape as far as the eye could see that wavered at the touch of the slightest breeze. The puddles of rainwater proved no match for her boots; she splashed through every one in front of her, sticking close to storefronts where she was safe from the wake of cars. Her pace was not unreasonable, but her silent companion never walked beside her. It might have been out of courtesy, or that she sensed her agitation—or it might have simply been that she smelled the unwashed clothes she wore from the day before.

They were nearing the edge of town when she stopped in front of a storefront nestled between two larger buildings. Small, pine-green banners hung between two wooden posts supporting the porch, waving lacklustre greetings in the autumn morning. Old, dark, and worn, the two-story pharmacy-turned-house was as charming as it was haunting.

"I live here," she told the pale woman, who looked mildly unimpressed. It was a shack compared to the Sakata manor.

Mineko averted her gaze to the puddle she was standing in, her hands finding the straps of her backpack and giving them a squeeze. "I have some errands to run now. Thank you for comi-ing out this far…" She still didn't know the woman's name. Not that it really mattered anymore.

"I'm sure Maria-san and Sakata-san spoke with you this morning." Mineko almost jumped out of her skin when the young woman spoke. Her voice wasn't breathy and fragile like she expected, but deep and soft. "We elected to relocate to Sakata-san's residence because we would like our stay to remain private. The Commander's health is our top priority, and in order for him to recover, he needs rest and care away from busy settings, away from the public eye. I would like to ask again—as I'm sure your supervisors did earlier—that you please keep any information about our stay to yourself. Everyone will be very grateful." When she finished her piece, Mineko blinked at her for several quiet seconds. In spite of her somewhat disdainful expression, the words that came from her mouth were polite and sincere.

"I don't w-want to make trouble for anyone. I don't know the Commander, but i-i-if helping you helps Maria-san, and Sakata-san, then thi-is is still part of my job. I can do that much."

"Thank you, Matsumoto-san." She bowed lowly, and Mineko bowed back after a slight delay, unsure if she should say something in return.

"I hope he gets w-w-well soon." Grey eyes met hers for an instant, and then the woman turned and walked back the way they had come. Her shoulders sagged as she watched the woman travel down the street. She didn't ask why she needed an escort home. She should have asked how long it might take the man—the Commander—to recover. Now, more than anything, she needed a shower, and maybe food if she could stomach it, and later, her own bed.

She pulled out her keys and pushed aside one of the heavy doors, slipping into the dark of her living space. Boxed in by buildings on two sides, the renovated store's only natural light filtered in from the doors and windows at the front and rear. Shrugging off her backpack and coat and setting her boots to dry on the mat, she made her way to the opposite end of the shop, where a supply room had been converted into a large bathroom. Pale sunlight shone through the small windows stretching along the top of the wall, dulling what little splashes of color decorated the room.

Quickly ridding herself of her old clothes, she stepped into the shower and stood under the spray for several minutes, combing her hands through her hair. She needed to call the rehabilitation center and let them know she would be a little late to her shift. She wasn't the only volunteer on the schedule, so the work would still get done with or without her, but if something came up to put everyone behind schedule… She should have called the moment she stepped out of the manor. Hurrying through the rest of her routine, she shut the water off and slid back the shower curtain, reaching for a purple towel dangling on the nearby hook.

A flurry of shadows danced over her skin and up the bathroom wall, accompanied by a scratching on the roof. The curtain rattled as she jerked it back across her body. A gasp hissed between her lips when she raised her gaze and saw black shapes dart past the windows. She held her position for a couple more seconds, her fingers slowly releasing the curtain when all was silent. A bead of water from the showerhead tapped her on the shoulder.

Birds. _You nearly gave yourself a heart attack over a flock of birds._ She grabbed her towel, eyes on the blur of morning sky through the panes.

With her towel wrapped snuggly around her frame, she stopped outside the bathroom door and looked at the narrow set of stairs that seemed to run into nowhere, the overhead latch and door nearly invisible against the dark ceiling. She listened and heard nothing. She felt for something familiar and did not find it.

The house was empty. 

* * *

"I'm sure the birds appreciate your hard work, Matsumoto-san."

"I'm not s-s-o sure. The geese never leave me alone." Mineko smiled at the comment but avoided making eye contact, choosing to focus her efforts on imaginary specks of dirt on the food tray.

"They're just a little aggressive about showing their gratitude, that's all." She let out a small laugh and rinsed the plastic, hoping her skin did not betray her as the hot water rushed over her gloves. Being around the vet assistant made her feel warm. It was a sudden rush of tingling warmth, like there was too much energy moving around beneath her skin, and she had a nagging anxiety that it made her flush red all over.

She hated it.

But she liked him.

Almost six years her senior, Akashiro Senji was one of only a handful of people below the age of forty whom she interacted with on a semi-regular—typically once or twice a week—basis. Friendly, intelligent, and kind, he had a charismatic air about him. He was also married.

"I'll be on my way after I f-fi-inish these dishes. I'm sorry I couldn't be here earlier."

Senji tossed his gloves in the trash can. "Did Tamaki-san already leave?" She heard him turn to glance over his shoulder at her, seemingly dismissing her apology.

"No," she shook her head and set the tray aside to dry. "He's still here—out back. He's seeing what he can do about all the standing w-water by the delivery door. I'll check on hi-i-im before I leave."

"Thank you."

Mineko turned off the water and glanced at him with a smile. "You're welcome."

A few minutes later the sink was wiped down, the counters scrubbed, and the day's trash wrapped and ready to be discarded. Hoisting the bag by the knot, she carried it out the back door and down the shallow steps to the trash can, looking around the alley for any sign of the other volunteer. Dumping the trash and finding no trace of Tamaki, she walked across the unpaved road and pushed open the tall wooden gate surrounding the center's expanded property.

"Tamaki-san?" she asked the man sitting on an empty crate stashed in the corner of the yard. "Are you okay?"

Dark wrinkles set in a permanently tanned face lightened when the old man raised his head. "Matsumoto-san… Yes, yes; I'm all right. Needed to sit down for a minute. Thought I'd keep Yamato-dono company." He pointed a calloused finger at the goose marching around the pen closest to him—the oldest resident and one of the few who could not be released back into the wild.

The bird bobbed its head and honked loudly at her as she passed, scaring the pair of ducks in the adjacent enclosure. Tamaki chuckled at the display as Mineko pulled down her rolled sleeves and fidgeted with the cuffs.

"He'll always be a human," he told her, his lips drawn into a toothless grin that reminded her of a smiling Buddha. "Doesn't matter to him that we look different."

Mineko smiled back and nodded. "I—um—I came to see i-if you needed help with anything. I saw there isn't much w-w-water left by the steps…"

Setting his hands on his knees, Tamaki pushed himself off the makeshift seat and picked up the shovel resting against the fence. "I've done what I set out to do. Unless it rains tonight, most of it should be dried out by tomorrow afternoon."

Mineko opened the perimeter gate and sent a final glance around the yard. "W-w-what did you do with it all?"

"Splashed it on the road," he gestured up and down the dirt alley as the gate creaked closed behind him. "It's a little muddy now, but tomorrow… Trying to read the weather?" He had stopped with her as she faced the back of the center, her gaze skimming over the roof.

"Yeah." A smile flittered across her face again as she turned from the swarm of soot sprites hovering around the walls of the clinic like globs of ink. She had never seen so many in one place before. "I thi-i-ink tonight will be clear."

"Me too." Tamaki hung the shovel on the rack by the back door while she slowly climbed the steps, her posture relaxed but her mind alert as she eyed two sprites floating around the top of the door frame. The pair bumped into one another and spun slowly in opposite directions, seemingly unconcerned by her presence. When she was certain Tamaki was on the steps behind her she opened the door and moved inside quickly.

"Got a sudden chill," she explained, rubbing one of her arms as she shut the door, keeping her eyes on the older man but searching for sprites in her peripheral.

Bidding Tamaki and the remaining staff good-night, she left through the front doors and made a show of looking at the afternoon sky, letting her eyes sweep over the roof with disinterest. There must have been at least one hundred of the little creatures.

Nestling her hands in her coat pockets, she started her journey home, thinking about the strangeness of it. She hadn't seen any when she was cleaning in the yard, and she hadn't turned around when she left to find Tamaki, so there was no telling if the black things had appeared in a swarm or if they had been hanging around the clinic for minutes or hours.

The clinic was not as far a walk as the train station, yet she found herself looking over her shoulder every few minutes. It wasn't curiosity or fear that turned her head, however, it was something else that she couldn't even describe to herself—less of a feeling and more of an impulse.

 _I need rest_ , she thought as she passed under a green banner and pulled out her keys. Six soot sprites huddled by a window, the sight nowhere near as unnerving as the swarm. As she unlocked the door, one detached itself from the group and drifted over, settling in the air above the keyhole. A second sprite floated her way, and then a third, forming a moving chain that idled towards the sprite by her hand. A small wave of her hand sent them adrift, giving her just enough room to slide open the door and slip inside without inviting any in with her. 

* * *

Mineko woke in darkness, disoriented but alert, as the alarm on her phone sounded from the small shelf beside her bed. Her fingers fumbled for the switch to the reading light clipped to the undecorated headboard, flicking it on one instant and rushing to form a visor across her brow the next. Sliding the phone across the shelf and flipping the screen around, she stared at the title running across the floral screensaver for several seconds before dismissing it. The room fell silent. She had forgotten to turn off her work alarm.

The light of the reading lamp raining down on her, she rolled onto her opposite side, holding the phone until the screen went black. There was nowhere she needed to be. What was she supposed to do all day? What was she supposed to do for half a week from now on? She was still tired; could she fall back asleep?

For an hour she laid in bed, trying to push away her thoughts and settle down to sleep, but neither her mind nor her body was willing to comply, and she eventually kicked away the blankets and sat herself at the kitchen table with the previous day's newspaper in front of her.

When daylight glowed around the edges of the curtains, she decided to leave the quiet of the house. There were dozens more soot sprites outside the storefront, huddling under the porch roof, knocking softly against the windows, hovering just in front of the door like a cloud of green-eyed gnats. Nothing could be done to stop the few that made it past her delayed defense, brushing past her legs and dangling on invisible strings just out of reach above her head. She locked the door and decided to enter upon her return through the back.

 _What are so many of them doing here? They couldn't have followed me—they've never done that before. Something must be attracting them. Maybe a smell…_ She coughed and shook her head, braving the haze of soot sprites to make it onto the sidewalk. The thought of the sprites at the rehabilitation center infesting the house made her stomach flip. If so many somehow managed to get inside, she wasn't sure she would be able to live there anymore, let alone remove them from the property.

 _I could try a pesticide. Or maybe there are plants that would deter them? But if they're some kind of spirit, a religious symbol or blessed object might work best._ Having never been bothered by their presence before, she had not deemed it necessary to do any real research on them, aside from occasionally reading the odd article or two about youkai and mental health when alone on her lunch break.

The bookshop near the market was the closest thing to a library in town. Hardly anyone purchased a book from the shelves, like her, choosing instead to sit and read in one of the small chairs tucked into any place where there was room, or at the desk where a couple computers were set up for public use. The shopkeeper—an old, white-haired woman with nowhere else to go—didn't seem to mind that people did not buy anything. It was probably the only time she had company.

A pair of old eyes glanced her way when she walked through the door and then returned, contently, to a gossip magazine. Mineko went straight to a computer but hesitated with her fingers on the keyboard, thinking. Slowly, she began typing in the search window, reconsidered, erased the phrase, and started a new one. Biting her lower lip, she let the website run its search. The screen that appeared seconds later was filled with site links, and when she scrolled down, she saw that she had more than one page of websites to sift through. Satisfied to see an abundance of matches for her query, she opened the first link and started reading, eager to find a useful bit of information.

Several hours later she closed her search, pushing her chair away from the desk and rubbing her eyes while supressing a sigh. There was so much out there, and so little that was helpful. It only made it more difficult that she didn't really know what she was looking for.

The best result she had found was a young mother's blog post boasting about the artistic talent of her four-year-old, in which she included several sample works, one of them depicting an enormous soot sprite in purple and navy blue marker. The color might have been off, and the proportions exaggerated, but the eyes, round and green and blank, were perfect.

Abandoning the computer for concrete works, she started perusing the aisle containing religious and spiritual texts. Reaching for a book on folklore on the top shelf, she heard her stomach growl, and swiped the book before discreetly looking around to see if anyone had heard. She cleared her throat and flipped to the index. Given the chapter titles, it seemed like a short historical piece examining the appearance of religious ideas and figures as a product of cultural and economic shifts, rather than the myths and stories themselves. She returned the book to the shelf and turned, seeing someone moving swiftly towards her.

"Matsumoto-san." Pale cheeks flushed pink and narrow shoulders rose and fell. "I am sorry to interrupt your shopping… Will you return with me?"

 _How did you know I was here?_ asked her brain, while her mouth stuttered out a dumb, "W-w-what?"

The woman took a step closer to her but said nothing for a few moments, placing a hand on the bookshelf and catching her breath. "The Commander asks that you come back to the manor. He will not say why; he will not tell anyone." She was worried. It wasn't just in the dusting of pinks on her cheeks; it was in the downward turn of her mouth, the delicate slant of her eyebrows, the dim sparkle in her eyes that brought no tears. And yet she was still pretty. Mineko felt a flicker of jealousy and disgust that the young woman might be well-suited as an intermediary for that very reason.

"When? For how-w long?" The woman opened her mouth but was silent, almost as if the questions had not crossed her mind.

"Today. If you can return today..."

 _He's upset._ She swallowed. Her mouth felt dry.

"I…" The other woman shook her head. "I don't know for how long. I think he wants to speak with you again?"

Mineko looked at the messenger and then glanced around, wondering if anyone was listening to their conversation. She read the spines on the shelf at eye-level, thinking about the soot sprites crowding around her front door and her lack of preparation, the dark, the quiet, and the shadows of birds fluttering across her bathroom wall.

"I'll go." 


	7. Until I Stand

**Please read, review, and enjoy! : )**

 **I do not own** _ **Ao no Exorcist.**_

* * *

Mineko sat with her knees together, propping up the heavy backpack that was doing its best to cut off the circulation in her thighs. The middle seat, without a passenger, had enough space to contain the stuffed pack, but she found herself unwilling to part with the possession. It gave her something to hold on to as the taxi turned the bend, momentum threatening to roll the bundle off her lap, across the back seat, and into the pale woman sitting on the opposite side of the car. Her knuckles turned white as her grip tightened, the tension never leaving her body even after the road straightened.

Pools of water littered the landscape, turned the fields and forests into wetlands and dirt roads into mud pits traversed only by those with four-wheel drive vehicles. It had been days since the rain let up, but the weather reports prophesied icy conditions if flooding did not recede by the end of the next week.

Evening blue was sinking lower on the horizon when Mineko and her escort splattered up the porch steps.

"Your phone?" Mineko stopped on the top stair and silently pulled out her device, shutting it off while the woman watched.

The front doors opened without either of them knocking.

She had worked one foot out of a dirty boot when a familiar-looking black suit approached.

"Please leave your bag here. And remove your coat."

"My things… My belongings are i-in here." She was also chilly from the walk to the porch, and would have preferred to keep her coat on.

"You don't need them right now." Believing their discussion would go no further until she complied, Mineko took off her other boot and grudgingly relinquished the warmth of her coat. She dragged her backpack aside and noticed her slippers were missing.

"Please come with me." The search for her slippers could wait.

She stepped into the hall after the black suit and glanced behind once to see that the young woman did not immediately follow. "I haven't been told w-w-what's going on," she started once they were out of earshot of the woman in the entryway.

"You're to see the Captain first," the man said, and Mineko felt her stomach flip-flop.

"Oh." She cast her gaze downwards, away from the hallway laid out before her that suddenly seemed all too short. No doubt the dark-eyed woman would fix her with a piercing glare on sight and throw questions at her that she didn't know how to answer.

When they turned down the guest hall, she lifted her chin at the sound of knocking. The guards outside the first guest suite must have been alerting everyone that she had arrived. Seconds later there came the brief squeal of hinges and the short yet imposing figure of the Captain stepped out of the suite.

"Finally," Mineko thought she heard the woman mutter, and then she was striding their way, her expression stern. The Captain sent a significant glance towards the black suit, who gave a small nod and kept walking when she intercepted them. For several long and awkward seconds, the woman looked at her without uttering a word, either inviting her to speak first or daring her to break the tension she fanned with her silence.

"How-w may I help you…?" At the last instant she blanked on how she should address the woman, the end of her question hanging on an abrupt pause.

"I'm glad you could return on such short notice, Matsumoto-san. We were not expecting to call on you so soon, and I'm sure you have other responsibilities to tend to outside of your job here."

Thrown off by her response, Mineko offered a stilted, "Yes—of course. You're w-w-w-welcome."

Gold bars glimmered on the woman's sleeves as her arms crossed over her chest. "He asked about you twice this morning." Her tone hardened now the she had dispensed what little pleasantry she mustered for the occasion. The Captain could have been accusing her of some wrong-doing, but she kept the emotion from showing. "When he asked about you a third time, at noon, we informed him of your situation. He was not pleased." Again, she seemed to imply the fault was hers. "What does that poem mean and why is he so adamant about discussing it with you?"

"The…poem? He read i-i-it? I read it in school… I-It… Anyone can discuss i-it. He must be confused—"

"The Commander is not a fool." The spectacled woman's voice rose, and Mineko inadvertently flinched at the interruption.

"I am not calli-ing him a fool." Her hands flew up defensively and she spoke slowly, boldly, though her instincts told her to submit. "I meant no di-is-isrespect. If you let me speak w-with him again, I think we can clear up any mi-isunderstandings, and I will return home." Surely that was what the Captain wanted: to send her on her way as soon as possible and never catch sight of her again.

"That would be best," she said after a moment, and turned, indicating that she should follow.

In addition to Nakamura and the nurse, there were a couple of black suits and several people in blue and white uniforms in the guest suite, including the blonde twins. Conversation ceased as most of the occupants looked towards the door when they came in, and the black suits immediately departed.

"Commander, Matsumoto-san is here." The Captain went straight to the bedside while Mineko hung back, unsure if she was supposed to join the bodies gathered around the bed. She didn't feel comfortable doing so. The scene brought forth the memory of her grandmother lying on her deathbed, surrounded by family and a handful of surviving friends in a room that was somehow too hot and too cold. It was not a pleasant comparison.

"Thank you, Captain," answered the man under the blankets, his voice dry and worn. "I wish to speak with her, alone."

"I understand, sir. With your permission, I would like to remain in the room, to make sure all is well."

"No." His response was immediate, and despite his sickly state, the authority behind it was unquestionable. Mineko watched the cluster by the bedside, observed how the Captain's shoulders rose stiffly in protest while a few pairs of feet shuffled, and uncertain glances swept left, right, and forward. Without realizing it, she went through the same motions, shifting uncomfortably at the blunt rejection and deciding that anything else in the room was easier to focus on than the conflict between the guests.

"It won't take long." One of the officers spoke up after the pause stretched uncomfortably in an attempt to soothe the Captain. "If he needs this to be kept private, then there's no helping it; it does not concern us."

"Please, Captain." It dawned on Mineko that the bedridden man had no way of enforcing his decision. His rank was the only power he held over the group huddling around him.

"I would not doubt you, sir." The Captain's hand pressed down inches from his on the mattress, a splash of inky black on bright cotton. If his authority was indeed unquestionable, then her loyalty was unwavering. But the disappointment remained. "We will leave you a moment. If you need anything…" It was not necessary that she finish. Quietly, the men and women moved away from the bed, one or two of them glancing at Mineko on their way out the door while the others feigned disinterest. The twins carried a matching smirk that did not seem to be aimed at her, and then the Captain shut the door with a solid tug and a final look.

"I w-w-wouldn't have minded i-if she stayed and listened." The words came rushing out louder than she meant them to, as if she had been holding her breath, only to remember how breathing worked now that the room was empty of uniforms.

"No." He gave her the same answer he had given the Captain, his tone and volume no different despite their non-existent relationship and her distance from his resting place. "This is between you and me."

Mineko clasped her hands and said nothing, looking away from the man dwarfed by the comfort of the bed and feeling less certain of role. She had returned to the manor believing that her help was required, but thinking back on the brief exchanges she had had with the guests, no one had explicitly asked for her assistance. They wanted her to come back. The _Commander_ wanted her to come back. Only one person knew why, and she had spent her afternoon asking the wrong people, thinking she was going to help _them_ help _him_.

From where she stood, she could not interpret the lines and shadows of his face—and was there any real hope of discerning emotion with his face wrapped in cloth? With or without the bandages, she still did not know him, was not familiar or even truly acquainted with the man. _There is nothing between you and me_ , her inner voice pointed out.

"Are you curious?" When she blinked at him, he added, "Why I called for you?"

The Captain spoke of his apparent interest in discussing the poem with her, but that could not be the real reason for the summons. Even bedridden, there were other ways to allay his boredom, and any one of the guests was likely better company than her when it came to idle chit-chat. "A little. I don't think I understand w-w-why I'm here."

"And that is why you stand in the corner, behind the others? Because," he gave a small cough, "you are uncertain?" She paused only a moment before slowly nodding. "But you are curious." This time it wasn't a question. A short sigh passed through his lips as he adjusted his head on the pillow, tilting his head towards her. "Are you afraid to come closer? I cannot speak louder…"

Her eyes widened and she quickly moved forwards until she was beside the bed, her head bowed apologetically. "I am not—I—I'm terribly sorry, I w-wa-wasn't thinking."

There was an IV drip connected to his forearm, an ugly yellow-green fluid making its way through the tube and into his bloodstream. It didn't seem right.

"It helps." The Commander caught her staring, and she fumbled for an excuse.

"I'm sure… I'm not familiar w-w-with medicine." _Or healthcare of any sort._

She became keenly aware that he was watching her. Unlike in their previous interactions, he was lucid, if not a little weary. It had never occurred to her how difficult it was to meet his gaze when it was focused. Not that it made her feel threatened; on the contrary, it was quite alluring. In as horrible condition as his body appeared, his eyes were beautiful, glowing like the last traces of life in a smoldering hearth. _I'll bet he was attractive when he was young. Not anymore, but…to have such a strong influence and receive all this support from the others, he must be a charismatic leader. Maybe this is how everyone feels around him?_ She wasn't sure that she liked it.

"I read the poem. 'The Second Coming.'" Some of the tension left her at the change of subject. Eager to discuss something else, she smiled a little.

"You did? W-w-what did you think? I w-won't be insulted if you say you didn't like it…"

"It was ominous, beautifully written, thought-provoking," he listed out for her, as if such qualities could be found in any piece of poetry. "There is a lot of symbolism… A lot to discuss… The last time we were alone, there wasn't much time for talking… I asked you about Bethlehem." His eyelids lowered, as if the memory was tiresome.

"…I think I remember."

"I said that the next time we met, we would talk about the beast… I'm still interested…in your beast." He seemed winded talking so much, his chest rising sharply with labored breaths beneath the blankets in the ensuing silence.

"The beast?" Her voice was hardly above a whisper.

" _Your_ beast," the man corrected with a huff. "What did you see in the hall?" He lowered his voice to a hum, the strain of controlling his breathing bringing about a small fit of coughing. His eyes seemed to glisten in the light of the bedside lamp, appearing so much brighter nestled amidst the shadows that fell across the planes of his face.

Mineko licked her lips and shifted from one foot to the other, feeling the corner of the mattress press against her leg. This was why he called her back. He didn't really want to talk about the poem; he wanted to talk about her.

"I think…no matter w-w-what I say, I'm going to be called a liar. I mean, schi-izophrenic—mentally ill." It was the prelude to a story, the standard script that ushered in a complicated and far-fetched explanation that—at first—was not to be believed, and only taken seriously after the occurrence of a miracle or disaster. Her mouth turned upwards, but she did not feel the proper emotion behind the fleeting smile. The air in the room felt thick. She turned and looked over her shoulder, her gaze moving from one corner of the room to another and flittering back to the dark of the bathroom between them. "I'm so-orry, I don't mean to leave you in suspense. But I don't thi-ink I should talk about it." She faced forwards again, the darkness creeping at her back. "I don't want to talk about i-i-it," she clarified.

The man was quiet after she said so; perhaps he expected her to say something different. Most people would probably jump at the chance to share a secret with a stranger—if not to lift the burden of keeping it to themselves, then at least to give a glimpse of the truth to someone else. But she had lived with her secret for much of her short life, keeping it hidden from others out of fear and selfishness. At some point it became a part of who she was.

"Do you need to sit down, Matsumoto-san?" Without a word, she grabbed the nurse's folding chair and set it facing the Commander. She sat down and adjusted the chair's position again, then brushed her hair over her shoulder and folded her hands in her lap, frowning all the while. Phrased carefully, spoken pleasantly, he had asked about something private. And she didn't know if that meant he was genuinely interested in her or fishing for information. It made her cautious.

"If you had told them that I wanted to speak with you again, they would not have made you leave." Mineko tilted her head up a fraction to look him in the eyes, wondering why he back-tracked from his earlier question. Despite the soft light, she fought to keep the blush off her face.

"I know," she admitted. "It di-id not feel appropriate…to use you as an excuse. I decided that i-it would be better if I left. I don't thi-i-ink I'll be of much help with so many people here. Cleaning and keeping out of the w-w-way…" A small, real smile lit her expression as she shook her head, imagining herself trailing behind black suits and blue uniforms with a broom and a dust pan. She rubbed her hands together, feeling the rough brush of callouses against her fingertips. "I'm sure you can tell, my routine i-is more centered on manual labor than attendi-ing to guests. Maria-san has some nursing experience and she's served Sakata-san much longer than I have, so she's more adaptable. I kno-o-ow how to be polite, and I can offer some help, but… Actually… The truth i-is… I didn't think you cared i-i-if I came back or not." She quieted, realizing that the Commander's eyes were closed. Upset that her words meant so little, she aimed a frown at him that dissolved in seconds. She couldn't remember if she had ever seen him sleep—wasn't sure how well he could sleep without drugs.

Her expression softened. "I'll let you rest." She moved slowly, quietly, standing to excuse herself. He opened his eyes and caught her as she was tip-toeing around the chair.

"Matsumoto-san?" His voice cracked, and he coughed. When he moved his hand away from his mouth, fresh drops of blood glistened for an instant before seeping into the bandages around his fingers. "If I asked you to stay…here, at the manor…would you?"

Her hands found their way to the back of the chair and curled tightly around it. She looked at her knuckles, certain that they were bone-white, even though the lamplight painted them a golden yellow. He sounded like he was asking, but was he really? Eventually she lifted her face, because if he had been listening to everything she just told him, she didn't believe she could make him understand how irrational such a request was. The green-eyed man stared back, offering no counsel, nothing to indicate if there was a right or wrong answer, or which one he wanted to hear.

Mineko let go of the chair.

"Yes." She did not elaborate, but reached for a tissue and offered it to him, her gaze lingering on the smeared blood between his lips. "I w-will call your nurse." He lifted his hand and ignored the tissue, hooking his fingers around her wrist instead. The contact startled her, although his grip was weak.

"Will you?" He wasn't asking for the nurse.

"I don't thi-i-ink the others would approve," she said in a hushed voice, her smile grim. "And I can't help people who-o don't want help."

The Commander seemed to mull over her words while he slipped his hand down her wrist to her palm, taking the tissue when their hands parted. For a moment he ignored her as he wiped his mouth, giving a small grunt when his tongue brushed over a patch of scarlet on his lower lip. She offered another tissue and kept her hand out, thinking he would wish her to dispose of the used one. After rubbing away the last traces of blood, he looked up at her, the dirty tissues crumpling in his hands.

"Will you stay for _me_?" There was a gurgle in the back of his throat as if he needed to cough again, but he did not. Instead, he picked his head up and leaned forward, the strain evident in his neck and shoulders as he peeled himself away from the pillows. His spine curved as his shoulders hunched, and when he looked at her again, he had to tip his head back to compensate for the poor posture. He could not straighten his back.

Her outstretched hand dropped a few inches. "I do-don't think I can help you. Why…?" She averted her gaze, suddenly uncomfortable at the sight of him. "W-w-w-what can I do for you?"

"I would like someone…to talk to," he sighed. Mineko already had a response on her tongue, but he continued. "Time moves slowly…when you're confined to a…a bed, all day. Would…you humor…this sick creature…?" He brought a tissue to his lips and cleared his throat, swallowing thickly a couple of times. "…Until he is well enough to stand?" As he panted, his entire body seemed to tremble, his upper torso tipped forward precariously. The vibrant color on his lips had returned.

Mineko perched her hands in the air above his shoulders, uncertain if she should touch him. "Lean back. Please, lean back again." It took her a few seconds to find her composure. She settled one hand on his shoulder and cupped the back of his head. "I'll get you another tis-issue, and then I'll get the nurse…" Cradling him backwards, she heard his breath stutter as he eased into the pillows. "There," she whispered, sliding her hands out from beneath his narrow frame. The tissues could wait; he needed medical care. Her eyes met his. There was pain, and exhaustion, and determination, but they did not compare to the anticipation. He was waiting for her answer.

She turned her head away, calling over her shoulder. "Nurse!" Then, a little louder, " _Nurse_!"

The door hit the wall with enough force to send it swinging back towards the frame, disrupting the flow of officers into the room.

"What happened?" The nurse was at her side in an instant, and Mineko retreated farther down the bed to give him more room to examine the patient.

"We w-w-were talking and he sat up." Another light was turned on, its radiance white and glaring compared to the bedside lamp's. "He seemed to have trouble breathing, and the blood from hi-is mouth…" She looked from the nurse to the Commander, whose eyes were narrowed to slits from the lighting change, his mouth pulled into a tight line. He didn't look her way.

Someone put a hand on her shoulder and she spun around to face a black suit she didn't recognize.

"He'll escort you back to the car." It was the Captain who addressed her from the foot of the bed. "Thank you for coming, Matsumoto-san. I'm sorry your visit had to be cut short."

"I understand." Her reply was automatic. Time was moving too fast for her thoughts to catch up as people moved in and out of the room, side conversations and mutters rising into a drone that filled the space like a chorus of flies. Nakamura approached the bedside, and she felt herself being guided towards the door, detached.

"Wait." She turned from the bed to the man walking her out. "W-wait just a minute." He frowned in a manner that suggested he wasn't willing to tolerate arguing. "I need to tell him…" She pointed in the direction of the bed, and the black suit followed the trajectory as it settled on no one in particular. Jerking her arm free, she darted around a woman leaving the room, ignoring the noise of protest from her escort as she headed for the highest ranking female officer.

"Captain! I w-wanted to tell you…" The woman turned her head, her dark eyes expressing what she did not say. Mineko stopped short. "I'm comi-ing back. I mean, I'm staying." The room got a little quieter as the uniformed men and woman standing on either side of the Captain paused to look her way. Mineko took a couple of steps closer—not because she wanted to be near any of the guests—but because she didn't want the entire room overhearing her. "He asked me to stay here—the Commander. I decided I w-would. I wanted to let you kno-o-ow."

The Captain stared at her as if she was speaking another language. Her lips parted a fraction and then she slowly turned to look at her superior. "Take her into the hall and wait for me there. Everyone else, leave." The noise level died down on account of the observed silence. One of the bystanders must have sent her a questioning look, for she snapped her head sharply and warned, " _Get out_."

This time Mineko did not stop the black suit from guiding her towards the exit, avoiding making eye contact as she walked out into the hall. Behind her, the door shut with a rattle. 


End file.
